Soldiers of Fortune (OLD)
by HornetFreak
Summary: Announcement: This story has been abandoned and will be undergoing major facial-reconstructive surgery. In other words, a rewrite.
1. A Purple Tulip and a White Rose--Part I

**A/N: This chapter and the next one take place nine years before the events of RWBY Volume 1. This story is to be written by two separate people, so be mindful of two different writing styles moving forward. There are a total of 8 OC's that this story follows, 2 huntsman teams total. Extra information that cannot be listed in the story itself will be written in the form of author's notes to give the reader a full experience. The title of this chapter is merely a clever reference to the Weiss/Ruby ship. Neither of these characters appear in this chapter. Hell, hardly any of the show's main characters appear in the story. But, nevertheless, we hope you enjoy our very first chapter to our very first fanfiction.**

* * *

Everyone crowded around the windows of the airship as the CCT Tower came into view. The voice of Glynda Goodwitch affirmed their arrival.

"Welcome to Beacon."

As the tower stretched to the sky along the horizon, a thin layer of mist blanketed the landing pad. An abrupt stop, an open door, and a swarm of potential students flooded out of the craft.

Among them stood a tall, burly faunus with Golitah-like feet, a silver buzzcut, and baby blue eyes. He weaved his way along the outskirts of the crowd and adjusted his uncomfortable-looking hearing-aid. This was Grayson Dunce.

Without a word, Grayson made his way toward the Great Hall. As he did so, every human that saw his mountainous form found his demeanor to be intimidating, therefore giving him a wide berth and letting him pass. While he appreciated the gestures, Grayson did not like how they did so out of fear and, possibly, prejudice. In reality, he was just as wary of them as they were of him.

He had no idea what was in store for him as he entered the Great Hall. Filing into the building, he just stood there with plenty of elbow-room, just waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Eventually, something did. A hush fell over the room as the man himself, Professor Ozpin, approached the microphone and began a speech that would change Grayson's life forever.

* * *

"It seems just like yesterday I had to address a crowd of new potential students, but I will do so once again," Ozpin said dryly.

"However, I will spare you the lies of how I look upon this room and see nothing less than the finest heroes tomorrow will ever know. Instead, I will tell you the truth. Today, I will give you a choice, a path if you will. The things we will teach you here are just the preparation for the long, arduous journey ahead. It is up to you to see where that journey leads. It could lead you to honor, glory, and pride...or you could become the very thing that your fellow huntsmen and huntresses, well…hunt," he said with what seemed like a chuckle.

"Either way, I bid you good luck on your endeavors, I pray you make the right decisions, and I humbly welcome you to Beacon Academy."

* * *

As Ozpin stepped off the stage, Ms. Goodwitch approached the microphone to further address the sleeping arrangements and other details for that evening, as well as announcing the specified time of the entrance exams. As the students migrated out of the complex, one of the last to leave was Moose Bully, a young man who wore a fur-collared leather jacket and a cattleman's hat with one brim pinned to the side and a large brown feather protruding from the back.

Before he stepped out the door, he paused and looked back into the Great Hall, just to take it all in and to appreciate the surreal nature of the situation. He took a breath and thought to himself, "It's finally happening. I'm finally doing it." And with that, he exited the building to catch up with the rest of the mass.

After a less-than-comfortable night of sleeping in the ballroom, Moose woke up confident, refreshed, and ready to take on whatever Beacon could throw at him. He was, however, taken by surprised when he realized that Ozpin wanted to throw launch him off of a massive cliff into the unknown that was the Emerald Forest.

As he stood on that platform, he looked to his left and his right and saw a plethora of different people and characters; from a large, burly faunus who wore a flowing grey trench-coat and a cumbersome hearing device, to a small, thin, green-cloaked faunus with wings and a strange-looking mask that resembled a bird's beak. One by one, they were all catapulted into the sky with little to absolutely no time to prepare for it. Moose found that he would have to come up with his own "landing strategy." Before he knew it, he was flying through the air, heading towards the ground at an unsettling pace.

* * *

As Grayson plummeted to the earth at break-neck speeds, he began to crash through the top layer of the forest roof. Tall, deciduous trees hurled past him as blurs, and he saw that he was heading straight for one of them.

"Aw, crap," he muttered.

Thinking fast, he reached for his weapon, a mace that he called _Plume Charm_. With a flick of his wrist, the spiked head of the mace popped off with an attached chain trailing behind it. At the very last second, he flung his flail, which wrapped around and caught the tree trunk. It whipped him into a downward spiral to a large branch that was lower on the trunk. Upon landing safely on the branch, he could not help but smile. As he wiped the sweat from his brow with a sigh, he suddenly heard a loud cracking noise. The branch broke, and he was earthbound once again.

 _BBBOOOOMMMM!_ Grayson landed on his faunus feet on the grassy ground. The impact of his landing created a rather large crater on the forest floor. He looked around him to see if anyone was nearby.

"God, I hope no one heard that," he said to himself.

"Actually," a female voice behind him said, "I do believe _everyone_ heard that."

Red-faced, Grayson turned around to see a pale-skinned brunette girl whose purple and black outfit was covered with a smorgasbord of golden trim and gears. The girl continued.

"I do suppose that since we have made eye contact, that means that we are stuck with each other."

"Yeah, I guess," Grayson replied, "You're, uh...Ebony, right?"

"Correct. And, forgive me, but I did not catch your name," she said.

"My name is Dunce. Grayson Dunce."

"Well, then, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Grayson Dunce," Ebony responded reaching out her hand.

"Likewise, Ebony…,"

"Rouge," she said curtly.

Suddenly, a deep growling came from behind the pair.

"Uh oh," Grayson said.

"Don't tell me. There is a rather large Ursa right behind me?" Ebony replied.

"Yep."

"Is it a Major with spikes?"

"Oh yeah," nodded Grayson.

A devilish smile flashed across Ebony's face.

"Bring it on."

* * *

Having landed somewhat safely, Moose found himself blindly wandering through the Emerald Forest. At least he knew which way was north, thanks to his outdoors expertise and his keen tracking abilities. He had an objective: he needed to get to the ruined temple of which Ozpin spoke and retrieve the "relic" that was housed there.

" _Sounds simple enough_ ," he thought to himself.

As he continued hiking, however, things became a tad less simple. Two massive Griffons fell from somewhere in the trees above and stopped him dead in his tracks. Moose, unfazed, just stood there. He closed his eyes and pushed up his glasses. Reaching behind him, he pulled out and cocked his _Rough Duster_ , a lever-action rifle, which he then split into a sword/pistol combo.

He stood in a ready position, waiting to make his move, or at least for the Grimm to make theirs. As they were all about to charge, out of the sky fell a small golden-glowing canister. It bounced and rolled its way to the middle of their stand-off. Moose could not help but become confused.

"What the h—"

 _BANG!_

An explosion of lightning dust followed by another exploding canister of fire dust both stunned and set the Griffons ablaze. Suddenly, a pitchfork-like weapon rained down from the heavens and pinned one of the creature's head to the ground, dissolving it into mist instantly.

In a comical fashion, Moose and the remaining Griffon stared at pitchfork, then each other, and finally where the weapon came from. Moose recognized the green-cloaked faunus from before. As the boy stooped out of the sky, his mask gave him the appearance of a missile as he hurtled in the direction of the Grimm.

Before he crashed face-first into the ground, the faunus swiftly opened his wings and glided, landing just behind the Griffon, putting it between himself and Moose. While the creature was distracted by the boy, Moose took the opportunity to his advantage and attacked. He charged at the Griffon, slashing at its legs with his blade. The monster let out a hellish cry as its legs crumbled beneath it. Moose launched back at the beast and slashed at its wings, which fell right off its back. Another horrible scream. With the Griffon now incapacitated, Moose reverted his weapon back to a rifle and aimed for the face. One shot. One blast. One kill. The Griffon dissolved into thin air.

Moose looked back at the faunus boy, who was retrieving his pitchfork weapon. The boy was breathing heavily, but began to breath normally as the seconds passed. With one last breath, the faunus' mask mechanically retracted back into the hood of the clock he was wearing, revealing a pale, sickly face. The kid had emerald green eyes to match his attire and a cockney grin on his face.

"If I were you, I'd get clear the next time I throw one of these bombs. These things can be lethal. Believe me I know," the faunus said.

"You know I had that, right?" Moose told him.

"Eh," the boy replied, "thought I'd lend you a hand anyway. The name's Gron. Gron Lakare."

"Moose Bully." The two shook hands.

"Well, that's a pretty…unique name," said Gron.

"Probably not as _unique_ as Gron," Moose returned.

"Point taken," Gron chuckled.

They did not have time to exchange any pleasantries as the two suddenly became surrounded by a drove of Boarbatusks. The pair readied their weapons and took their stances.

"Gron, I hope you have more tricks up your sleeve than just dropping bombs," Moose said.

"You insult me, Moose. Of course, I do," replied Gron, as his mask mechanically formed back around his face, "What, you think I carry around this pitchfork because I'm scared of hay?" The mask made his voice sound somewhat robotic.

"Alright, point taken," Moose responded, "Now, what do you say we kill some Grimm?"

Gron laughs. "I thought you'd never ask."

Then, the two charge into battle, launching themselves into the horde of soon-to-be-dead monsters.

* * *

The longsword made a satisfying _SHINK_ as the curly-haired boy pulled it from the neck of the now-dead Beowulf. The Grimm slumped over and slowly dissolved into a thick, black mist.

"Now _that's_ what I call being blown away," he said chuckling to himself.

He took a moment to dust himself off and make sure none of his clothing had ripped during the confrontation. He wore a burgundy sports coat over a forest green vest and matching trousers, adorned with many golden buttons. Unfortunately, one of his leather sandals had been torn by the Beowulf's claws.

Sheathing his blade on his back, he looked to his left to see the platinum-blond girl finishing off the two remaining monsters, brutally beating them to death with a terrifying pair of over-sized cestus gloves. Upon her completion of the dirty work he approached her, running his fingers through his curly mess of golden-brown hair.

"Looks like that's all she wrote. And the fat lady, she's a singin'," he remarked, stretching out his hand in a gesture of gratitude.

"Thanks for the backup, girly."

"Mmm-Hmm," she nodded with a meek smile on her face. She took his hand and shook it.

The girl's silence made him feel a little awkward, so after a few agonizingly uncomfortable moments, finally, he broke the ice.

"You know, since we made eye contact, we're gonna have to be partners," he stated.

 _Silence._

"Which means we might have to…you know, talk."

 _More silence_.

"Oh, I see, you're one of those quiet types, right? Well…we should at least know each other's names."

 _Even MORE silence._

"Name's Ringo, Ringo Hobbs. And, unless I blacked out there, I don't think I caught yours," Ringo said, jokingly.

"Poppey Leifgreen," she replied, timidly.

Feigning shock and awe, he exclaimed, "She speaks! For a second there I thought you were a mute. But I guess, you got better."

They started walking in the general direction of the temple, based on what little information Ozpin had given them to start with. On the way, Ringo took the chance to get a better look at his new partner, as the grove they had met in was quite dim and overgrown. She wore a sea green blouse, tucked into a royal blue skirt with maroon leather boots. A royal blue neckerchief wrapped, loosely, around her neck, held together by a small, red bow. On her head, tilted to the side was a worn, sea-captain's hat and, tucked behind her ear, Ringo could just barely make out what looked like an old, wooden pipe. Finally, hiding under her hair was an eyepatch made of black leather that was covering her right sea-green eye. Ringo figured it would be rude to ask what had happened to put her in that condition.

Poppey's weapons looked just as impressive as they did deadly. From her belt hung two, highly modified, crimson-colored cestus gloves; the knuckles of which were covered in what appeared to be spikes that had been filed down into blunt ridges.

Curious, Ringo inquired, "So, what do you call them?"

" _Blutoyl Spin_. Yours?" Poppey replied.

"What?"

"Your weapon, what's it called?"

"Oh, uh, I call this guy _Venom Tail_ ," he answered, proudly pulling the serrated sword from its sheath to show her. "My uncle and my other mentors helped me forge and perfect it. Saved my sorry hide on more than one occasion."

"It's nice," Poppey praised.

"Thanks. Yours, too," said Ringo, returning her compliment.

* * *

The pair traveled onward for about thirty minutes, exchanging very little conversation. Their quiet journey came to a sudden end when a hoard of Creeps stampeded out of the wood, followed by a tall blond girl wielding a large battle-axe. Behind her trailed a fit-looking young man with dark brown hair. They were apparently chasing the creatures. Given that they had nothing better to do at the moment, Poppey and Ringo joined in pursuit.

The Grimm numbered about twenty or thirty, but were not the toughest monsters ever. With ease, the four of them made short work of the Creeps. Ringo unsheathed _Venom Tail_ and switched it into its crossbow setting, taking pot-shots at the various targets scurrying through the forest. Poppey had already racked up about nine kills, punching away with _Blutoyl Spin_. The other girl, which Ringo now noticed was a faunus on account of the wolf's tail sprouting out of her lower back, decimated the freaks with her axe. The weapon could apparently release a corona of dust-powered energy which burnt, electrified, or froze, whatever it hit. Slashing through Creep after Creep, her partner was clearing out the final few stragglers with his falchion. The Grimm never stood a chance.

"Thanks for the help, but we could have handled it," the faunus girl said.

She was clad in leather and furs with steel plates on her chest, legs and forearms. Her axe was about five feet in length and had glowing blue ports on its head, where the dust blasts were charged.

"Either way, that was pretty fun," Ringo responded.

"We should do it again sometime. I'm Azure Newfond," she said, bowing her head slightly, "And you are?"

"Ringo Hobbs."

"Poppey Leifgreen," Poppey said quietly.

Azure's human counterpart stepped forward, "And I'm Titian Valentine, good to meet you both."

His face was accented by a small patch of hair on his chin. A worn, quilted doublet, fastened together by a leather belt, was draped over his puffy-sleeved shirt. From his waist hung a, intricately-designed falchion-style sword.

"Well, what say we head on to the temple together, eh?" Ringo suggested.

"I don't see why we can't. I mean, Ozpin never said that we had to avoid other teams once we paired up," Titian agreed.

"Alrighty then, let's get a move on. Those relics are 'a waitin'!" Azure concluded.

And with that, the group continued northwards.

* * *

Across the forest, on the cliffside they were launched from, stood Professor Ozpin and Glynda Goodwitch, monitoring the students as they made their way through to the temple.

"And that appears to be the last pair, Titian Valentine and Azure Newfond," Ms. Goodwitch informed him.

"If I may, Professor, we are seeing a much larger concentration of Grimm in the forest as of late. Do you really think it's wise to put these children at such risk?"

"Oh, I'm sure they can handle themselves," Ozpin said plainly, taking sip of his cocoa.

Glynda sighed, "If you're certain."

"I am. Besides, what would life be without a few obstacles?" Ozpin chuckled.

* * *

 **A/N: Grayson is based on the beloved classic Disney character, Dumbo. By Goliath-like feet, we really mean elephant feet, as, to our knowledge, there are no actual elephants in the RWBY universe.**

 **Moose is based on Theodore Roosevelt, before he was the President of the United States. The hat and the glasses that he wears are part of Roosevelt's signature look.**

 **Ebony is based on the Charles Dickens character, Ebenezer Scrooge. She speaks in a posh British accent. And, when we mean "golden trim and gears," we're saying that her outfit has got a cool steampunk look to it.**

 **Gron is loosely based on Nostradamus, a famous plague doctor. The allusion is in aesthetic alone.**

 **Ringo is based off the Lord of the Rings character, Frodo Baggins. He speaks in a snarky, Australian accent due to the where the LOTR franchise was filmed (New Zealand and Australia).**

 **Poppey is based off the classic cartoon character, Popeye the Sailor-Man and _Blutoyl Spin's_ left gauntlet spinning attack is a homage to Popeye's famed left-handed punch.**

 **Azure is loosely based on the Viking explorer, Leif Erikson. She speaks in a Scottish accent, as it fits the character's aesthetic better than the traditional Norse.**

 **Titian is based on a lesser known Italian Renaissance painter, Tiziano Vecellio, who invented the color titian, which is a reddish-orange color. His current weapon is not the one he will use going forward, he will acquire his specially named falchion later.**

 **The 'Bring it on' conversation Grayson and Ebony have is a reference to the Disney film _Emperor's New Groove_.**

 **Upon writing this, RWBY Volume 6 was announced so, going forward, expect the story to differ from whatever canon is presented in the new season. And, as, such we will be taking small liberties with canon.**


	2. A Purple Tulip and a White Rose--Part II

"Was that really necessary?" Grayson asked, exasperatedly.

"What? It's dead, isn't it?" Ebony retorted.

"It has more spikes now than it did earlier," he said.

"You're just jealous that you didn't get any hits in," she teased, tipping the brim of her top-hat with a wink.

He groaned, "Whatever, I got dibs on the next one."

At that moment they came into a large clearing. A large, crumbling stone temple stood in the center. The sun was starting to set making the ruins cast long, foreboding shadows.

"Well, I guess that's it," said Grayson, stating the obvious.

"Really? You don't say" she said, insultingly.

Another shadow was cast on the ground, but this one was moving. Something was flying above them.

"What is that, a Griffon?" Ebony speculated.

"Nah, it's too small, looks like…a kid?"

"As in, a faunus kid?"

Both of them looked up to the figure and were a little surprised, as winged faunus were quite rare. He was flying about a hundred feet above them, surveying the area of the temple, and, no doubt, watching them.

A few seconds later, a young man clad in leather came through the brush and called up to him.

"Anything?!" A slightly robotic voice answered.

"If there was, it would have been on you already! Besides, these two would have probably taken it out by now."

He went into a nose-dive and landed gracefully atop a stone pillar at the temple's base. His bird-like mask then retracted back into his green hood, giving them a view of his face. His partner soon joined him at the rotunda's decrepit wall. The two then made their way inside.

Grayson and Ebony followed suit and entered the ruins. They found many small pedestals, on top of which were several flowers of varying breeds and colors. There were two of each kind: tiger lilies, daffodils, hydrangeas, and carnations among others. A few were missing, which was an indication that other students had gotten there before them.

"I suppose we should choose one," Ebony suggested.

"Really? You don't say," Grayson said sarcastically.

"Shut up."

"I'll shut up if you pick one."

"Well, how could I refuse _that_ offer," she snapped.

Giving the flowers a quick once-over, she settled with a purple tulip.

"And, of course, you take that one," Grayson groaned.

"What? It goes with my outfit," Ebony smirked, placing the flower under her hat. She look over and saw the other two boys, who were apparently trying to choose a flower that would not hurt their masculinity. She rolled her eyes.

At that moment, they heard a rustling noise in the woods behind them. All four of them readied their weapons, in anticipation of an attack. However, out of the bushes came a finely-dressed, curly haired boy.

He saw them and shouted back into the forest, "Not here!"

"Are you serious?!" an angry, female voice yelled.

"Azure, you've known me for about twenty minutes. You should know by now that I'm never serious," he laughs.

A groan could be heard as, from behind him, emerged three more students: two girls and a boy. As they came into the clearing, the winged boy recognized the curly-headed one.

"Ringo?" he said.

"Gron?"

"I didn't know you got accepted into Beacon," Gron said, surprised.

"Yeah, I'm playin' with the big kiddies now," Ringo joked.

Moose butted in, "Wait a minute, you two know each other?"

With a sigh, Gron replied, "Unfortunately, yes. He and I both attended Signal Academy. We studied under the same teacher: Qrow Branwen, who is, honestly, one of the greatest huntsmen I've ever seen."

"Yeah, the guy was awesome, but, you know, still not as good as yours truly," Ringo remarked.

Gron rolled his eyes and made a sound of disgust. He looked around at all the others.

"Well, I guess we'd all better introduce ourselves," he said.

Ringo piped in, "Great! So let's all join hands, say our names, and tell a fun fact about ourselves. I'll start."

"Yeah, that's a hard pass, buddy," Gron's partner said, shutting Ringo down instantly.

"Anyway, I'm Moose Bully and I guess you already know my acquaintance, Gron…something."

"Lakare. Gron _Lakare,_ " Gron said, with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

After that, everyone else introduced themselves in turn.

"The name's Grayson Dunce."

"Ebony Rouge, at your service."

"Ringo Hobbs, no sarcastic remark this time."

"Poppey Leifgreen," she said, meekly.

"I'm Titian Valentine"

"And I'm Azure Newfond. My fun fact is that I don't care about this stupid game."

And with that, Moose, Gron, Ringo, Poppey, Titian, and Azure went to choose their relics.

Azure and Titian chose first, a white rose.

"Ah, the rose, one of my favorite things to paint," Titian mused.

"Oh, you paint?" asked Azure.

"Oh yeah, my dad is an artist in Menagerie. He taught me everything I know," he returned.

Across the temple's courtyard, Poppey and Ringo were looking over their options. Ringo picked up a purple tulip and presented it to her.

"Here's lookin' at you kid," he said with a wink.

Blushing slightly, she chuckled and took the flower, placing it in a pouch on her belt.

Next to them, Moose and Gron finally made a decision, choosing yet another white rose. The flower was carefully secured in a glass vial Gron retrieved from his satchel.

* * *

With all their relics chosen, the group started to leave the ruins. But before they could get very far, a fairly strong rumbling was felt, as though they were in the middle of an earthquake. It continued for a few seconds, gradually getting stronger. All of a sudden, out of the forest, came a massive stampede of Grimm. Monsters of all shapes and sizes: Creeps, Beowulves, Boarbatusks, and even a couple of Ursai. And they were all coming straight for them.

All of the students looked at each other.

"Well…this should be fun," Ringo said, followed by an evil-sounding laugh.

Moose yelled, "Everyone get ready!"

Everyone readied weapons. Ringo and Titian drew their swords. Poppey equipped _Blutoyl Spin_. Azure retrieved her axe, _Lucky Stroke_ , from her back. Moose readied his _Rough Duster_. Gron prepared his pitchfork, _Pestilence_ , and, at the same time, his mask reconstructed itself from inside his hood. After drawing _Plume Charm_ , Grayson looked over to Ebony, who produced a large, golden pocket-watch from her belt.

"You know, even though I've seen you use that thing, it still confuses me," he told her.

She smiled. "Well, then maybe a second demonstration is in order."

Out the sides of the watch came two long, black poles, which then extended two flat, double-edged blade on each end. All in all, the weapon looked to be about eight feet, a good bit taller than Ebony herself.

"Behold, _Hummy Bug Cratchit_ ," said, smugly.

"Oh...well that's new," Grayson remarked.

"Darling, I'm just getting started," she laughed.

At that moment, they realized everyone was staring at Ebony's strange device. None of them had seen a weapon quite like it before.

"What? You've never seen a weaponized pocket-watch before? Are we going to keep standing around all day or are we going to fight?" she demanded.

With a holler of delight, Azure launched herself into the oncoming horde, cutting through many of the Grimm like a hot knife through butter. Gron attempted to take to the skies on his vulture-like wings, but was cut off by a swarm of ten Griffons. Knowing he could not out-fly them, he stayed close to the ground. Seeing Gron in trouble, Grayson converted _Plume Charm_ to its rocket launcher setting, with which he shot a large projectile in the Griffons general direction. The explosion killed four of them instantly, leaving six more for Gron to deal with.

"Could you possibly be any less accurate with that thing?!" Gron complained.

"Almost counts, you know," Grayson refuted, "I'll take three and you take three," he yelled to Gron.

"In case you haven't noticed, I can fly, and they can too. You wouldn't be able to do much without a pair of wings," Gron said back while grappling with one of the Griffons.

With a proud look on his face, Grayson began to lift off the ground, elevating himself into the air with the use of his semblance. He soared over towards the remaining Griffons, mace in hand. The act was incredibly taxing on his aura, but he didn't plan on doing it for long. He then whacked a Griffon so hard that he sent it careening to the ground below. The two flying faunus worked well together, as they engaged in an all-out aerial battle with the monsters.

* * *

The next to join the fight were Ringo and Poppey. Attacking in unison, they fought through a group of Beowulves. Eventually, Ringo got cocky and attempted to kill an Alpha by himself. He soon realized he was out of his league and tried back off. Tripping on a root, he fell backwards and lost his hold on _Venom Tail_. The huge Beowulf loomed over Ringo, its mouth dripping with saliva. It walked towards him and he thought he was done for. A flash of light was seen and the creature's head exploded in a mess of charred, black slime, which splattered all over him and stained his suit. Looking behind him, Ringo saw Poppey standing with her arm outstretched, smoke flowing off of _Blutoyl Spin_. He regained his composure and retrieved his sword.

"What the devil was that?" he asked her.

Poppey's cheeks reddened and she giggled nervously, "Oh…you know…just a laser…no biggie."

"'No biggie' she says! That was amazing! Do it again. Do it again!" he applauded.

And she did. Poppey raised her arm, took aim and ignited the laser, burning an unfortunate Creep to a toasted crisp. Ringo giggled like a schoolgirl.

"That is awesome. What say we go kill some more things with your laser hand?" Ringo suggested. Poppey smiled.

* * *

The Ursa Major slashed its enormous claws at Titian as he flipped out of the way. A second, smaller Ursa lunged at Moose, but was interrupted by Titian's flying kick to its head. Moose stabbed the Major's leg with Rough Duster's blade and shot the minor one in the chest with his lever-action pistol. Titian slid between the younger's legs and clambered up its back, stabbing it repeatedly in the head until it fell over, dead as a door-nail.

"Nice job! Now, how about you give me a hand over here?" Moose yelled to him.

"On it"

They each took turns engaging the giant Grimm, blades slashing back and forth with every pass. The Ursa Major was losing steam, and it was Moose who delivered the killing blow. He did a running jump off the now dissipating corpse of the former Ursa, re-joined _Rough Duster_ into a rifle, and loaded it with lightning dust rounds. Moose took aim and fired a lethal shot through the beast's head, finally ending its life.

In a gesture of celebration, the two exchanged a high-five.

"I was hoping for more of a challenge," Moose remarked with a sigh of relief.

Breathing heavily, Titian said, "Yeah, well, what're you gonna do? If you want to try and get yourself killed again, be my guest. There's plenty more where that came from. I mean, look around, take your pick."

"You know, I think I will."

And he did, forging his way deeper into the horde.

* * *

Ebony stood ready to strike as four Boarbatusks closed in and surrounded her. She rushed at the one in front of her, striking its armored hide in vain. The creature headbutted her, violently knocking her back into the one behind her. She was knocked back and forth between the four monsters, bouncing around like a pinball in a machine.

Thinking fast, she pulled on the poles of her weapon. The timepiece split itself right down the center, making the long staff into two shorter swords. Ebony began to spin wildly, giving her the appearance of a rather deadly top. Spinning toward one of the Boarbatusks, she used one of her blades to sweep its legs out from underneath it. It overturned onto its back. She, then, stabbed it in its soft underbelly, exterminating it.

The other three began to spin in place before charging. In response, Ebony jumped into the air, narrowly avoiding the onslaught of spinning tusks and spikes. She reconnected her blades, retracting _Hummy Bug Cratchit_ back into its pocket watch state. Upon landing, she was holding the weapon by a long, golden chain, several spikes now extending around the watch's circumference. The Boarbatusks clumsily turned to face her and she started swinging the watch-turned-chain dart in various directions. The Grimm stood there dumbfounded as with one final swing, the chain dart flew straight at the closest one, shattering its armored faceplate and killing it instantly.

As the Boarbatusk dissipated, the remaining two began there standard spinning routine. Ebony retracted the blades and looped the chain around her midsection, the pocket-watch coming to rest at her hip. Closing her eyes, bowing her head and interlocking her hands in prayer-like stance, she waited. The monsters simultaneously barreled towards her, getting closer and closer. Suddenly, Ebony opened her previously brown eyes, which were now stark white. At the very last second, before the creatures strike her, she activated her semblance, making her body completely ethereal, as though she were a ghost. The charging Boarbatusks passed right through her and crashed, comically, into one another, throwing themselves over onto their backs in a daze.

Detaching _Hummy Bug Cratchit_ from its chain, Ebony switched it to its shuriken-launcher setting. She took hold of the pistol grip, leapt into the air, and pulled the trigger twice, one shot per Grimm. As the Boarbatusks dissolved into black mist, she landed, and blew on the end of her weapon, as though it were a smoking gun.

"You missed," Ebony said, reverting the launcher back to a watch and placing it on her hip.

* * *

With most of the Grimm dead, and the few stragglers now fleeing into the depths of the Emerald Forest, the students gathered together with many celebratory cheers and embraces. However, their jubilation was short-lived, as a sickeningly loud crack was heard in the wood. Then another. Then another. They all turned, weapons at the ready, to see the massive white head of a King Taijitu, one that was larger than any of them had ever seen or heard of. It let out a deafening screeching hiss that shook the earth around them.

Poppey said in an exasperated tone, "Oh…son of a…"

* * *

"Oh my," said Ozpin, seeing the gargantuan snake all the way from the cliffside.

"Ms. Goodwitch, I do believe this would be an appropriate time to lend our dear students a helping hand."

Glynda, with a mildly concerned expression on her face, said, "Yes, excellent suggestion, Professor Ozpin. I do believe that the situation merits a more experienced set of fighters."

"To the platforms, then?" Ozpin suggested. She peered over at the launchpads warily.

"You can't be serious," she asked.

Finishing his cocoa and setting his mug aside, Ozpin responded, with a slight smirk, "Now Glynda, you've known me for a long time. You should know by now that I'm always serious."

* * *

As the Taijitu closed in, Grayson took charge.

"Everybody spread out, stay out of its reach!" he commanded.

"Do you not see how big that thing is?! Its 'reach' is a long as the whole forest!" Gron yelled back.

Grayson got slightly annoyed, "Well then, don't get hit by it!"

The snake lunged its giant head towards Grayson, but at the last possible second, he dove out of the way, getting a face-full of grass and dirt as he did so.

"I should say the same to you," Gron teased.

"Will you two just shut up and hit the thing?!" Azure berated them both.

As this was happening, the other head of the beast, the black one, slithered its way out of the forest. Azure, about to take a running leap to attack the white head, saw the second and halted, backing up with her tail literally between her legs. Moose and Grayson looked at each other, made a silent agreement and nodded.

"Alright, we need to take both on at the same time, two pairs per head!" Moose said.

"Poppey, Ringo, you're with me and Ebony. Azure and Titian, you two help Moose and Gron," Grayson addressed everyone, "Whichever head you hit first, that's the one you fight!"

He and Moose then said in unison, "Let's do this!"

The confrontation began with Poppey jumping into the fray, landing several solid punches to black half's face, and safely backing off before the Taijitu had chance to retaliate. Ringo quickly followed suit, slashing at its underside with Venom Tail. The blows seemed to do nothing at all to the massive snake, so he ran around and up its back, jumping up into the air. Converting his weapon to crossbow state, Ringo fired three shots at the creature's eyes. Each one, however, bounced, unsuccessfully, off the bone plates surrounding them.

"Man, today is just not my day," a discouraged Ringo said as he landed.

"Then step aside, love, and let me have a go," Ebony said, with a tone of superiority. She activated and began to swing her chain dart.

Grayson cut them off, "No! We won't accomplish anything by attacking it one-on-one. We need to work together."

* * *

On the opposite end of things, Moose and the others were having just as much, if not, less luck fighting the huge Grimm.

"I can't even make a dent!" Azure yelled. Swinging _Lucky Stroke_ wildly, her strikes simply served to annoy the creature. "Its hide is just too thick!"

She leapt back as the white head of the Taijitu attempted to swallow her whole. Gron and Titian were having trouble even getting close to the thing. its sporadic movements made it difficult to predict where it would go next. Backing off and taking a knee, Moose tried to think up a plan of attack.

" _It has no real weakness, that we've seen_ ," he thought, " _I_ _ts only blind spot is behind its head, but there's armor there. How do we kill something that isn't hurt by anything we throw at it?_ "

Just then, an epiphany struck Moose square in the head.

He yelled, "Gron, do you have any of those bombs left?"

Confused, Gron answered, "Yeah, but I don't know how useful they'll be here."

"Just get them ready," Moose ordered.

"How many?"

"All of them!"

* * *

Dodging the snake's attacks proved to be more challenging than Ringo had anticipated, however, not completely impossible. The constant need to keep moving had given time to strategize. Although his plan was slightly altered when Poppey charged in yet again for another round.

She had activated an unseen mechanism on _Blutoyl Spin_ which made her the left gauntlet spin rapidly in an almost drill-like manner.

Speaking to no-one in particular, he remarked, "Well, that's new."

"Poppey, look out!" Grayson warned, barely too late.

The Taijitu jerked, unexpectedly, just before the brutal punch made contact, knocking her off course. She landed at the intersection between the white and black halves of the Grimm's body. As Poppey pushed herself up off the scaly hide, a sea green energy emanated brightly from her hands and spread to the monster. The snake then appeared to be weakened, as if it was struggling to lift its own weight.

From the other side of the battlefield, Azure called, "I don't know what you did over there, but it worked!"

Poppey staggered back, "What just happened?" she said, confused.

Ebony responded, "Darling, I believe that was your semblance."

"Semblance?! I don't have a semblance!" she claimed.

"Well, you do know!" Gron's mechanical voice retorted, from above.

At that moment, Ringo had an idea and called out to them all.

"Grayson, you and Ebony get up above it. Poppey, whatever you just did, do it again, then get over here. We're gonna need a big light show."

He drew the Taijitu's attention as the rest followed his instructions. Grayson reached his hand out to Ebony.

"Right this way, milady," he mocked.

"Oh, shut up," she fired back. She grabbed his hand and he flew about a hundred feet into the air.

Poppey channeled her semblance once more, weakening the giant beast even further, and ran out in front of it. Clasping her hands together, the all of laser emitters on her gauntlets began charging up.

"GO!" Ringo screamed.

Ebony dropped from Grayson's grip onto the Grimm's head, and used _Hummy Bug Cratchit_ as a makeshift lasso, wrangling and riding the monster like a wild stallion. Once the massive snake was subdued, Grayson plummeted, giant feet first, pinning it to the ground with a deafening crash.

"Poppey, let 'im have it!" Ringo urged.

"Just a few more seconds," Poppey said through gritted teeth.

* * *

"Gron, is it ready yet?" Moose questioned with impatience in his voice.

"Almost…Got it! Here, catch!"

He threw a belt with several dust bombs attached to it down to Moose. Catching it rather clumsily, he started to sprint around to the Taijitu's back.

"Alright, everyone distract it while it's weak!" he commanded.

Heeding his words, Gron began releasing clouds of fire dust with _Pestilence's_ vaporizer, and Titian and Azure attacked in unison at its underbelly. Moose then scrambled up the Grimm's back and onto its head. He balanced himself on the snout and quickly inserted the explosives in the snake's roaring mouth. He then front-flipped into the air and, mid-turn, took aim with _Rough Duster_.

Just before pulling the trigger, he muttered, "Smile, you son of a…"

* * *

At the same instant, Poppey shouted out, "NOW!"

With that, Ebony and Grayson cleared out as fast as they could to avoid the incoming death beam.

 _ **KABOOOM!**_ Two massive explosions decimated both of the King Taijitu's heads, sending chunks of smoldering, black viscera cascading through the skies.

* * *

Ozpin's landing zone had been a little off from the student's actual location, but he thought they could reach them within a matter of minutes. Clearly, he'd been mistaken in his assessment, as he hadn't counted on encountering the swarm of Grimm that were now fleeing the temple's vicinity.

After clearing through them, he said, "Perhaps an airship would have been a wiser choice of transportation."

"And you just realized this now?" Glynda fumed.

"I was caught up in the moment, my dear Glynda," Ozpin chuckled, "However, I don't believe it will be much farther."

He said this because the sounds of fierce combat could be heard up ahead. Readying their weapons, they stormed out of the thick, green wood, into the large open field. While they were expecting to join the fight instantly, any thoughts of aiding the group of young warriors were extinguished by a pair of enormous explosions. The shockwave of the blasts had blown back the trees on the edge of the forest and knocked the teachers flat on their backs. Pieces of charred Grimm were now raining down from the heavens.

They picked themselves up and entered the clearing to find the students celebrating their victory, shouting and cheering and embracing one another.

Ozpin said calmly, "Well, Glynda, it appears we have underestimated these youngsters."

Glynda relaxed, with a sigh of relief. And barely, just barely, a hint of a smile could be seen on her face.

* * *

That night, there was a ceremony held in the Great Hall. The room was just as jam-packed as the day before, if not more. Everyone in attendance was there for the same reason, to see the newest students of Beacon Academy be inducted fully. Ozpin called each new student up by name and assigned them to a team, based on which relic they had chosen. Eventually, there were only eight people left to be called forward.

Any doubts of the reality of the situation were silenced when Ozpin began to call their names.

"Ebony Rouge, Grayson Dunce, Poppey Leifgreen and Ringo Hobbs," he said, "The four of you retrieved the Purple Tulip relics. From this day forward, you shall work together as Team GRPE. Led by…Grayson Dunce."

The hall was flooded with applause, as the newly formed Team GRPE stepped off the stage. Grayson was still coming down from his stage-high when it sank in that Ozpin had said _he_ would be the leader.

" _Oh man, this might end horribly_ ," he thought to himself.

However, looking at his teammates, smiling and laughing, he corrected himself, " _T_ _hen again, maybe it won't_."

A hush fell on the crowd as the professor summoned the final four onto the stage.

"Azure Newfond, Gron Lakare, Moose Bully, and Titian Valentine. The four of you retrieved the White Rose relics. As such, from this day onward, you shall work together as Team MGTA. Led by…Moose Bully."

Moose bowed his head at the announcement that he was the team's leader, honored to have been chosen.

"I wish all of you good luck heading into the future. I have nothing but the highest hopes for you all," Ozpin addressed the new huntsmen and huntresses.

And with that, the first chapter of their new lives came to a close.

* * *

 **A/N** : **First off, the team names are pronounced GRAPE and MAGENTA**

 **Concerning weapons, Ebony's _Hummy Bug Cratchit_ is supposed to have a total of twelve weapon settings, based on the numbers of the watch's face. However, for the sake of our own sanity, only the three featured above will be appearing in later chapters.**

 **The King Taijitu was, approximately, five times larger than the one Ren encountered in the Volume 1 episode, titled "The Emerald Forest"**

 **While some romance will be happening between a few of the characters, no smut will be put in any future chapters. This story is T-rated, after all.**

 **"Are you just going to stand around all day?" is a reference to the movie, "Kingsmen: The Secret Service"**

 **When the Ancient Taijitu first appears, Poppey said "Oh…Son of a…" as a reference to the popular line of Rooster Teeth's most popular series, Red Vs. Blue.**

 **And finally, Moose's last quote before killing the white Taijitu head is reference to one of the final scenes in the original "Jaws" movie.**


	3. Grimm Circumstances

**A/N: I should probably start by acknowledging the obvious time-jump between this chapter and the last one. From now on, unless otherwise specified, chapters will happen somewhat in line with the current Volumes of the show. This chapter, in particular, takes place during mid-to-late Volume 4.**

* * *

The entire City of Vale wiped out in one night. For Moose, it was still hard to believe. How could a city full of huntsmen and huntresses, even though they were only students, fall to the Creatures of Grimm and the White Fang in one night? The thing that caused him the most confusion was the Wyvern. Where did it come from? What was keeping it frozen on top of the CCT Tower? And more importantly, were there other Grimm like it? It was because of these thoughts that he didn't get much sleep anymore. He would simply lie there, next to Azure, and imagine what Team MGTA's lives would be like if they hadn't been at the Vytal Festival that night. Maybe they'd be somewhere in Mistral, hunting down the more dangerous Grimm there or maybe he and Azure would have settled down to raise a family after their marriage, although, that was unlikely. Whatever they would have done, it was certainly better than their current situation.

They, along with all the other huntsmen that stayed to defend the city after the Fall, spent their days and nights living in the city's subway tunnels. They were relatively secure, warm, and, except for the occasional Creep scurrying through, Grimm tended to ignore them. Most of the citizens escaped after the Fall, however, a few refused to leave their homes. And, despite the best efforts of MGTA, Glynda Goodwitch, and the rest of Beacon's huntsmen and huntresses, every week or so another man, woman, or child would go missing.

Moose was currently on guard duty, watching the tunnels past the borders of the underground village for Grimm or looters. His station was a tower on top of a crudely fashioned, yet sturdy wall. A metal gate, large enough to fit the carts they used to bring in food, but not so big as to require more than one person to open it from the inside, stood looming in the center. On top of the wall were improvised gun turrets that Gron had built out of the weapons of the Atlesian Knights that littered the streets above. Although, they were quite loud and drew a lot of attention from monsters, so they were very seldom used.

At least two huntsmen were always on guard, and tonight, Moose had the pleasure of sharing the grueling task with his wife, Azure.

"Even though we've done this what seems like a thousand times, I still get bored out of my skull," she groaned.

She was sitting in her folding chair, leaning back an resting her feet on the guard-rail.

"And sittin' in this chair, I'm goin' numb. Feels like my tail's gonna fall off."

He chuckled at that remark. Azure's lust for action and combat was unrivaled amongst Team MGTA. She was always the first one into a fight, and the last one out.

"Well, it's better than getting chewed out by Glynda because a Creep managed to get under the wall. I swear, after ten years she still terrifies me," Moose replied.

"You go ahead an' laugh, but you and both I know that you'd rather be up topside, clearing out the streets."

She wasn't wrong. But then again, she rarely was. He did like the idea of taking down a Deathstalker or a King Taijitu. But they had responsibilities, people to protect, and an academy to help rebuild.

"Maybe so, but I'd rather be on guard duty with you than clearing out the whole city with someone else," he said, trying to cheer her up with one of his 'sweet nothings' as Azure called them.

"You're cute, but that don't change the fact that I'm still bored," she complained back, "It's bad enough that we can't get any time to ourselves. And when we are alone together, we're on watch, so we can't freakin' do anythin'."

Again, she was right. They had been married almost a year now, and in all that time, they had barely gotten a minute to themselves. Life in the caves was certainly frustrating at times, but the worst part was that privacy and personal space had completely gone out the window. They couldn't even have a conversation, much less do anything else, without someone within earshot.

Moose sighed to himself, choosing not to argue with the woman, and turned his attention to the tunnel. In the distance, he can just barely make out the appearance of Gron and Titian in the dark.

When they got closer, Moose called out, quiet enough so as not to draw any Grimm, "You're later than usual. I was beginning to think you weren't coming back."

With an exaggerated laugh, Gron retorted, "No such luck. You all are stuck with us."

Over the past few months, Team MGTA's overall aesthetic had gotten more rugged, matching their living conditions. Moose had lost his leather jacket some time ago, a fact which caused him some grief, as it had belonged to his late father. He found a replacement in a plain, tan, canvas jacket adorned with brass buttons. Gron's normally clean, polished armor had become rather scuffed up in the now ever-frequent Grimm battles. The most dramatic change happened in Titian, after the Battle for Beacon he had stopped shaving and now his face was covered in a bushy, tangled mess of a beard. Azure had maintained her average appearance, however, and didn't look all that different.

"What'd you see out there?" Azure inquired eagerly.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. The Grimm are still swarming the school. It's like the Dragon is attracting them," Titian answered.

"Well, are you gonna open the gate, or what?" Gron said.

Moose noted that he was a little more annoyed than usual.

" _Now, what's got him so hot under the collar?_ " he thought to himself.

"Have you seen any sign of the White Fang out there?" Moose asked, pulling the door open for them.

"None. It looks like they pulled out after the Fall," Titian said.

They stepped inside, and he closed the gate, with a loud _**CLANG**_. The noise reverberated throughout the tunnel, bouncing off the walls and traveling up and down the subway tracks. Little did any of them know that that single noise would bring pain and death to all those around them.

* * *

After a short conversation with Titian about the state of the city above, Azure and Moose took up their posts once again. They sat in silence for a while.

Thinking aloud, Moose asked, "What do you think's eating Gron? He's gotten really short-tempered and brooding lately."

"I don't know, but next chance I get, I'm gonna ask," Azure replied.

They didn't bother carrying the subject any further, after a few minutes, Azure fell asleep and Moose was left to watch the tunnels by himself. He sat, stroking his spruce mustache and listened to the sounds of the underground. He heard falling droplets of water, wind whistling through the caves, and just barely, he could make out the pounding of a Goliath in the streets. The noise began to get louder, the giant was getting closer.

The ground was shaking, and the thundering sound now seemed to be coming from inside the subway. Eventually, it was so close, Azure was roused from her catnap, "What? Who's here? What's happening?" she said, still half asleep.

Suddenly, Moose realized it wasn't a Goliath at all, but a giant Deathstalker, crashing its way towards them. As the behemoth closed in, Moose reached over to a control panel and activated the turrets, and Azure flipped a switch to sound the base's alarm system.

The Deathstalker came into view, the rounds from Gron's turrets proving to be ineffective against its think armor. The couple looked at each other.

"Well…How's this for action?" Moose asked, rhetorically.

 _ **BWAAA BWAAA!**_ The sirens screeched over the intercom, alerting everyone to impending Grimm attack. Not having been fully settled in yet, Gron and Titian were the first to react. With haste, they, along with all the other huntsmen and huntresses, rushed to the gate with their weapons at the ready. They arrived to find Azure and Moose dodging and weaving around the pincers and stinger of the Deathstalker. Suddenly, a pack of enraged Beowulves came flooding through the now-demolished gate, apparently hot on the Deathstalker's tail.

Understandably angered, Professor Goodwitch yelled out to them, "What in the world is going on here?!"

Azure was the first to answer, "Isn't it obvious? We invented a new game, called 'Dodge-Stalker.' I think it'll be a big hit in preschools."

Annoyed by Azure's sarcasm, Glynda began giving orders to the rest of the group behind her, "Half of you take care of the Beowulves, the other half, kill that thing."

At that moment, Professor Port and Doctor Oobleck arrived on scene.

With a hearty laugh, Port exclaimed, "Ha-ha! At long last, some worthy prey!"

"No. Peter, Bartholomew, I need your help to protect the civilians," Ms. Goodwitch said.

"Yes. They must take priority in this situation, Professor," Oobleck agreed in his rushed manner.

And with that, the most experienced huntsmen in the city left the fight to defend those that couldn't defend themselves. Leaving their students to take on the Deathstalker.

The giant scorpion's armored hide made it difficult for anyone to get a good hit in and, considering that there were eight huntsmen facing it, that was a little discouraging to some. Fighting alongside MGTA was Team CRDL of Beacon, one of the few teams to actually stay and fight the Grimm after the Fall. Their leader, Cardin Winchester, was young and inexperienced, but he had guts. His teammates weren't the most lovable either, but they sure could fight.

Seeing that nobody was able to get in close enough to do any real damage, Azure reminded the lot, "You guys do remember that your weapons also double as guns, right?"

In the confusion, everyone had been too distracted to attack from any sort of range, but now they backed off and attempted to shoot it with various dust rounds, to no avail. As none of their attacks were even phasing the beast, Moose tried to come up with a plan while ducking and jumping in order to avoid incoming blows. Eventually, a plan came to mind.

"Hey Gron!" he yelled.

"What?" Gron answered from his position in the air.

"Entrance Test, Emerald Forest. Remember?"

It was difficult to hear his response, but it sounded something like, "You do realize this thing doesn't have a mouth, right?"

"All I need is the bombs," Moose explained.

With an annoyed groan, Gron unclasped his grenade belt and tossed it down to him. An idea now in his head, he then shouted a simple order, "Azure, get it to look up!"

Azure smiled deviously and said to Team CRDL, "Boys, you might want to cover your ears for this."

Moose warned, "Listen to the woman. She's always right!"

With that, Azure sprinted forward, swung _Lucky Stroke_ up into the Death Stalker's mandibles, and triggered her semblance, Wolf Howl. She unleashed a thundering roar, so loud that the sound waves could be visibly seen in a glowing reddish hue. The Grimm was staggered by the one-two blow, and its head was sent reeling backward. Moose took the opportunity to run and slide underneath the monster, and, using his hunting knife, pinned the grenade bouquet to its belly.

He then yelled, "Get clear!" as he equipped his pistol and shot the bombs.

 _ **KA-BOOM!**_ The Deathstalker exploded in a colorful display of dust and bone. Shards of the Grimm's armor were sent flying through the air like small spears. Most of the pieces simply bounced off the tunnel's walls, however, one managed to hit, and pierce through Gron's armor, lodging itself in his sternum. The sudden blow caused a pained cry to erupt from inside his mask. Not being able to handle the injury, he fell nearly fifty feet to the ground, landing on one of his wings, completely crushing it.

"Gron!" Azure screamed as she, Titian and Moose rushed over to their fallen teammate.

"He's still breathing…barely," Titian said, letting out a sigh of both relief and worry.

Moose didn't stop giving orders. Addressing them both he commanded, "Go! Get him to the doc. We'll hold down the fort here."

He then turned his attention to Cardin and his team, who were just standing, looking over the now dissipating corpse of the Deathstalker, dumbfounded. He called out to them, "Are any of you four hurt?"

They looked at each other, then back at Moose, shaking their heads. "No, we're fine," Cardin responded.

"Alright, then you're with me. We need to check this tunnel to see if there are any more Grimm on their way."

"Whoa whoa whoa, who put you in charge?" Cardin argued.

"The Deathstalker…that I just blew up," Moose said, through gritted teeth.

The expression on his face made it clear to them that he wasn't in any sort of mood to argue. Seeing this, the younger team of huntsmen decided to shut up and follow orders. Moose led them deeper into the cavern, weapons at the ready, thinking only about the civilians at risk of another Grimm attack. As darkness enveloped them, the only thought that came to Moose's mind was, " _Damn, that was my favorite knife_."

* * *

Azure and Titian carried an unconscious Gron through the wrecked camp. Looking around, they saw that the last of the Beowulves were being dealt with. The pack had been a bit larger than average, and, as such, was able to cause a fair amount of damage; a few civilians were dead, and some others had been wounded. When they reached Doc O'Malley's clinic area they found him cowering under an operating table.

O'Malley was a thin, short human in his forties with salt and pepper hair that was combed back neatly, and a goatee surrounding his mouth. On his face, he wore a pair of bifocals, similar to Dr. Oobleck's. As for clothing, he was dressed in his usual attire; light purple scrubs and a worn lab coat.

"'The bloody hell are you doin' under there, Doc?!" Azure demanded.

"I…uh…I…dropped my scalpel," he said, producing a filthy surgical knife from under the table.

"A likely story, but honestly, I don't care. We just need you to fix Gron," she stated as they rushed through the doorway.

The clinic was a small storage room that had been rearranged and refitted with an operating table, a medicine cabinet, and a few cots. Over in the back-left corner was an area that O'Malley had made into a makeshift office, but in reality it was a folding table and chair covered with charts and documents that he used to catalog their medical supplies. The trio laid the injured faunus on the table, he was now bleeding profusely from the hole in the middle of his armored breastplate. His breathing was labored and heavy, and the broken wing was bent towards them, hanging over his shoulder. First, they removed the armor, uncovering a black cloth shirt, which was then ripped off to reveal the terrible wound in the center of Gron's chest.

Doc began to attempt to take his bird-like mask off but was halted when Azure forcefully grabbed his hand. She told him, "Don't. That mask is the only thing keepin' him alive right now."

Doc was obviously puzzled by this, "How so?"

Titian explained, "He has an illness that causes his lungs to stop pumping air if his heart beats too fast. The mask prevents that from happening."

Not wanting to argue, O'Malley set to work cleaning and stitching the puncture wound.

* * *

A few hours later, everything had quieted down, and Gron's condition had stabilized. Titian was leaning against a wall opposite the door and Azure was sleeping on an operating table next to Gron's. Moose was sitting by his friend's side, yet again, lost in thought.

"The Grimm were drawn here by something, but what was it?" he asked himself

"It doesn't matter," Azure said, dryly. "What matters is that it won't happen again, we'll make sure of that."

"You can bet your life on that," Titian agreed.

Moose made a silent pact with himself that he would die before any more of his friends got hurt like this again.

"We're too short-staffed. This is way too much for us to handle on our own. We need some more hands. People we can trust, people that we know," he told them. "I think we need to call _them_."

Azure and Titian looked at each other with shock. They understood who he was talking about; the traitors, the ones that had abandoned them to pursue the lives of mercenaries. "Dirty jobs for dirty money," Gron had called it.

Azure instantly objected, "Moose, no. They left us to die in Mistral, and then they went off and murdered every human in that traveling circus."

"That's how you see it, but I don't think we have the full story of what happened," he reasoned. "Nevertheless, we need their help."

"Titian, come on, you can't seriously think this is a good idea?" Azure pleaded.

"I think you're both right," he said. "Azure, you've got a point in saying that they can't be trusted, _but_ …Moose is also right, we do need their help."

"I'm calling them, and that's final," Moose made up his mind.

Visually angered by the decision, Azure fumed, "We don't even know where they are."

"I have a vague idea," he stated. "Last I heard, they're somewhere in western Vacuo."

"Ah, well _that_ narrows it down quite a bit, doesn't it?" she snapped.

Having not gotten through to her husband, Azure stormed out of the clinic, her tail flitting about with anger. Titian looked at Moose and said, apologetically, "Well…you certainly didn't score any points with that stunt, huh?"

With that, he walked out as well, headed for the sleeping area. Moose glanced at Gron. His mask was now removed as his wound was treated. His sunken face gave him the appearance of a corpse. Moose then stood up and retrieved a piece of paper from Doc's desk, sat down and began to write.

 _Grayson…_

* * *

 **A/N: I know in the previous chapter I said Titian would acquire his special named falchion in the future, and he has; but I felt it would be better to make you wait a little longer to see what I have in store.**

 **Secondly, Team CRDL, I assume, is still at Beacon if they didn't run home like the little wusses that we all know they are. Also, I felt it necessary to include more characters from the show.**

 **Finally, if you're a fan of Rooster Teeth's other work, you'll recognize Doc O'Malley as a not-so-subtle reference to Doc/O'Malley from Red vs. Blue (I'm so sorry, I couldn't help myself).**

 **UPDATE: Gron's flashback has been moved to chapter 6, as I felt it fit better there.**


	4. Please Don't Shoot the Messenger

How the courier wished that communications in Remnant would come back online. This seemed like the hundredth village he had visited looking for his recipient. The sender's words burned in his brain: " _His last known whereabouts were in West Vacuo_."

" _Sure, that narrows_ that _down_ ," the courier thought as he strolled up to the front gate, " _At_ _least the guy paid in advance._ "

Upon entering the village, the courier found himself in a small oasis hidden in the Vacuo sand. The village may have looked meager, but the villagers, human and faunus alike, bustled up and down the narrow streets like lancers in a hive. The courier was thoroughly impressed. He had not seen so much life in a village in Vacuo before. However, he did not have time to gawk. Although he was tired and disheartened from his long, trying journey, he had a job to do, and he was not going to give up now.

The courier began with his usual procedure: asking around at taverns. He found that talking to bartenders and tavern regulars to be a valuable asset when it came to tracking someone down. One by one, he stopped by almost every establishment in town. With every time he asked, he would get the exact same answer.

"Sorry, pal. Haven't seen him," the bartender said.

"Are you sure?" the courier asked exhaustedly.

"Look, man. I will say this for the tenth and _final_ time. I…have…not…seen…him."

"Sir, please. This is the last place I have on my list to check. After I'm done here, that's it. I would have asked at every tavern in town." The bartender had a confused, yet interested, expression on his face.

"You mind if I see your list?" he asked.

"I don't know what good it would do me, but I suppose you can. Here," replied the befuddled courier, as he handed the paper to the man. The bartender stared at the list for only a few seconds before giving it back to him.

"Not every tavern," the man said.

The courier became even more confused. "What do you mean? There's another? One I haven't visited?"

"Yeah," the bartender returned, "There is another place on the east side of town in the poor district. You probably didn't see the path that leads down that way since it's covered with oasis overgrowth no one has cut back. If there's someone in town that seems like they don't want to be found, that'd be the first place I'd check."

"Um, okay then. Thank you very much, sir. Sorry to trouble you with my pestering," thanked the courier.

"Eh, don't worry about it. It was the most entertaining conversation I've had in weeks," the bartender laughed.

* * *

The courier approached the unkempt oasis path and stopped. The sky began to turn gray, making the way look ominous and threatening. With a deep breath, he forged his way through the foliage and emerged at the other side. He looked at the poor district and thought that he arrived at a completely different village. Every house and building looked run-down, like they have not been lived in for years. The streets were empty. No person was in sight. The entire place looked abandoned.

As the courier strolled down the dirt-covered road, he tried to find a building that looked remotely like a tavern, which was difficult since every structure looked exactly the same. But, as he walked past a larger building, he heard the faint sound of smooth jazz emanating from the inside.

" _Bar music,_ " the courier confirmed.

He opened the door and stepped inside. It was definitely a tavern. A long, dusty bar stretched along the left of the room. Rickety tables were scattering around everywhere else. The tavern was practically empty compared to the others that he visited. The tavern's populace consisted solely of a single bar tender and several shady-looking characters that he assumed were the establishment's regulars.

"Welcome to The Mirage," the bar tender called out to the courier, "What can I do for you?"

Snapped out of his observative trance, the courier answered.

"Yeah, hi. Um, I was hoping you could help me."

"I don't blame you," the bar tender laughed, "We've got a wide selection of drinks. It's hard the choose which…"

"I'm sorry. While that is a kind offer," the courier interrupted, "I'm not here to drink. I'm trying to find someone."

"What's their name. Maybe I'll recognize them."

"Alright, then. Do you, by any chance, know a man named Grayson Dunce?" the courier asked.

"Who's asking?" a deep voice said from across the room. The two men looked down at the other end of the bar to see a large man with a silver buzzcut and a bulky hearing aid staring at them. On the bar in front of him, he had a half-full glass of milk. Grayson picked up the glass, downed the rest of his drink, and set it back down on the bar. He got up from his seat and practically stomped his way over with his flat Goliath feet.

He wore a long, flowing gray trench coat over a sky-blue shirt and dark pants. As he walked, _Plume Charm_ swung back and forth on his belt. He approached the courier and could already tell that the man was terrified. Towering over him with his mountainous self probably did not make things any better.

"Y-you're Grayson Dunce?" the courier gulped.

Grayson leaned in and spoke down to the man.

"If my 'who's asking' quote wasn't evidence enough, yes. I am Grayson Dunce. Now, what do you want?" His deep voice reverberated around the tavern like an amplified bass tune.

The courier began to stammer. He completely forgot what he was supposed to say. He was at an utter loss for words out of sheer terror of this massive huntsman that could instantly squash him like an insect.

"Well?" Grayson urged.

The courier reached into his bag and finally replied.

"I-I'm a courier. I h-have a m-message for you," he said, handing him an envelope. Grayson snatched it from his hand and immediately opened it. He read the letter for several long seconds and softly growled to himself. He looked up at the courier with a menacing grimace.

"You're damn lucky I don't shoot the messenger," he told him.

"I would have to agree with you," the courier nodded fearfully, his voice high and shaky.

Grayson's gaze stayed locked on the courier. He saw sweat forming on the man's brow. He reached to his side to where his weapon hung. The courier eyed the thing with a worried look on his face. However, Grayson's hand missed the mace altogether and reached inside his trench coat pocket. As the man let out a sigh of relief, Grayson pulled out a handful of lien and offered it to him.

"Here. For your trouble. Who knows what you had to go through to track me down," Grayson told him.

"Oh, that is very kind of you, but I've already been paid. You don't have to do that," the courier replied.

"I wasn't asking," returned Grayson firmly, "Take the money."

The courier complied.

"Okay, then," he said taking the cards, "Thank you very much, Mr. Dunce."

"Don't mention it," said Grayson.

Grayson reached back in his pocket, pulled out a single lien card, and placed it on the bar as a tip. He calls out to the bar tender.

"Thanks for the drink, pal. Keep the change."

He pops his coat collar, sticks his hands deep in his coat pockets and strolls out the tavern door. As the courier watched him leave, he smiled and stuffed the lien into his bag. He then turned around and stepped out the door into the now rainy village streets.

* * *

"I can't believe you paid a paid man," scolded Ebony.

"Hey, it was the least I could do for him," Grayson answered, "The guy literally walked here from Vale and most likely had to face hordes upon hordes of Grimm along the way. And what are you so mad about? The money wasn't even yours in the first place. It was my own lien from my own share, and I do with it as I please."

"Be that as it may, it's still a waste of money," she shot back.

Grayson rolled his eyes. As he did so, he looked over at Ringo and Poppey, who were sitting together on a nearby bed. Ringo wrapped his arms around her shoulders and touched his forehead to hers. The two looked like young lovers from a television soap opera. It had been three years since those two professed their love for one another, and, yet, Grayson still found it mildly unsettling. However uncomfortable he was, though, he saw how happy they were with each other, and he was happy for them.

The room that they were in was one of the many rentable rooms of a village inn. Since they were in the village's poor district, the quality of the place was not the best. But, the food was delicious and the beds were comfortable. Grayson could not ask for much more than that for his team.

"So what does the letter say?" piped Ringo, "Who's it from?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," Grayson said back.

"Try us," Ebony replied.

After a brief pause, Grayson finally answered with but a single name:

"Moose."

Everyone's eyes widened. Ebony, Poppey, and Ringo all looked at each other with expressions of shock and awe. No one said a word until they turned their attention back to Grayson.

"You're joking," Poppey said, "You have to be joking. There is no way _he_ could have found us."

"Yeah, we haven't seen the guy since graduation, which, I might mention, was five years ago," Ringo added.

Grayson returned, "Guys, this isn't just anyone. This is _Moose Bully_ we are talking about here, and, in case you've forgotten, he is arguably the best tracker that we have ever seen. The guy can track anything and anybody, far outclassing the great Professor Port, mustache and all. The way I see it, it was only a matter of time before he finally found a way to track us down."

"Alright, fine. He's found us. Now what in blazes does he want?" Ebony asked frustratedly.

Grayson opened the letter and read it aloud.

 _"Grayson,_

 _You are a very difficult faunus to pin down. I hope that this letter reaches you in time. If it does, and you are currently reading it, we need Team GRPE's help. I assume you have gotten word about the Fall of Beacon Academy. The Vytal Festival ended up becoming an all-out war zone, and my team and I are on the front lines. The people are terrified. More and more Grimm are coming to the City by the second. And the massive Wyvern that a red-hooded girl somehow froze at the top of the now-destroyed CCT Tower doesn't help our situation. We need all the help we can get. Team GRPE is our last hope as no one else will come to our aid. I know I am asking a lot from you, and I know you and your team have changed your lifestyle years ago, but, we are out of options. We will offer money if we have to. Just get here as fast as you can. Please help us._

 _Truly Yours,_

 _Moose Bully."_

Grayson finished and looked up at his team. Not one of them was brave enough to break the silence. The tension in the air was so thick that Ringo could probably cut it with his sword. After several seconds more, Grayson grew impatient.

"Alright. Someone please say something, because this is ridiculous."

"Well, what is there to say, Grayson?" Poppey said, "It's not like we can just waltz back there after what we chose to do."

"You mean what _I_ chose to do," Grayson shot back. The room fell silent again. He sighed and continued.

"Look, guys. I know that what we have done, the path that we chose, is widely frowned upon. I know that we can not go back to the way things were before. And I know that some of us like our new way of life and don't wish to go back. But, I feel in my heart that this is the right thing to do."

"You can't be serious," Ebony complained.

Grayson stood up, his height showing his superiority and position as leader.

"I _am_ serious, Ebony. Sure, we won't be welcomed back with open arms. We will probably be spat upon and shunned for our decision, but I am ready to face those consequences; because Team MGTA were our friends once, and Beacon was our home. And, as such, I think it would be only fair if we do our part to defend them. I say we go to Vale and fight alongside our fellow huntsmen and huntresses one more time. Who's with me?"

Poppey, with a determined expression on her face, immediately stood up from her spot next to Ringo.

"I am with you, Grayson. I will do whatever it takes to help our friends. That is a promise to you that I feel is worth keeping. Besides, we were in dire need of a change of scenery anyway."

Grayson smiled warmly. "Thank you, Poppey," he said.

"If Poppey's going, then I'm going, too," Ringo remarked. He stood up and grabbed Poppey's hand. "Grayson, you are our team leader, but above all else, you are my best friend. I'll have your back every step of the way."

Everyone looked over at Ebony, who was sitting with her arms crossed. They all knew that she loved their way of life, and they knew that she would be stubborn to leave.

"Need I remind you that we are here on business that has not yet been completed. I will agree to go once we finish our mission, not a moment before."

The three standing teammates all looked at each other. They came to a mental agreement.

"Fine," Grayson agreed, "One more job. Then, we go."

* * *

Another cloudy day was upon Team GRPE as they set down the road toward their mission. It was not as busy in the village this time of day, as the streets were a bit less congested than normal. The team walked past house after house, each one with a thin alleyway between them.

Upon passing one alley, Grayson stopped in his tracks as he peered down it. He saw a small group of five children harassing and bullying a small skunk-tailed faunus boy. One bigger boy pushed the faunus down and kicked dirt in his eyes. The bully stuck his hand out, demanding something. The faunus complied, giving him several lien cards.

Grayson saw that his team did not stop walking. They continued to talk and laugh. He called out to them.

"Hey, I'll catch up with you guys in a second. There's something I got to do."

"Okay, but don't come crying to us if you miss the action," Ringo yelled back.

Grayson turned his attention to the alleyway and went in. The skunk faunus was just picking himself up off the ground. With tears in his eyes, he appeared to be trying to defend himself, putting up his dukes and taking a classic boxing stance. Grayson stepped up behind him and stared the bullies down. At the sight of Grayson, the children stopped laughing and backed up, frightened.

The little faunus looked behind him to see what his oppressors were so afraid of. He looked up to see a gigantic faunus man staring down at him. His tail stood straight up out of fear. He did not move a single muscle.

"These guys bothering you, kid?" Grayson asked.

All the boy could do was nod, as no words came out of his mouth when he tried to speak. Grayson looked up at the bullies and stepped past the little faunus toward them.

"Which one of you is the leader? The boss?" Four of the children turned their eyes to the tallest boy in the middle. Grayson glared at him, like he was staring into the depths of the bully's soul. The child's knees were shaking slightly as he stepped forward. Grayson stomped up to the boy, grabbed the back of his shirt collar, and lifted him off the ground up to his face. Grayson, still silent, held the kid close, glaring right into his eyes like he was trying to burn a hole through his face.

"You think you're all tough, picking on him like that?" Grayson said quietly, "What did he ever do to you?"

The boy said nothing.

"Answer me, boy!" he growled. The child spat in his face. The other kids uttered several " _oohs_ " and giggled.

"Alright," Grayson muttered, wiping the saliva off his face with his coat sleeve, "Now, you've made me mad."

In retaliation, Grayson used his semblance to lift himself and the boy high into the air. He held the kid low, threatening to drop him. The boy screamed and squirmed.

"Okay, okay, okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" the bully cried.

"You want me to put you down?" asked Grayson.

"Yes!" the kid yelled.

"You going to be nice to him?"

"Yes!"

"Are you going to be nice to all faunus, not just him?"

The boy hesitated. Grayson threatened to drop him again. He screamed more, tears in his eyes.

"YES! Yes, I will!" the boy answered.

Satisfied, Grayson slowly descended to the ground, landing as light as a feather on the stone street.

"Alright, now here's what's going to happen," Grayson told him, "I'm going to put you down. You're going to walk up to him and say you're sorry, and you're going to give him back his money."

"Okay," the bully complied, his face wet with tears and his eyes red.

"And, if I ever hear that you are mistreating any more faunus…" Grayson looks down to see a small scarab beetle crawling along the ground. Grayson lifted his leg and slammed his foot down has forcefully as he could. A thundering _BOOM_ shook the earth. The street cracked and crumbled, throwing several pieces and sediments of shattered cobblestone everywhere. Grayson removed his foot from where he stomped, and they saw the damage. There was a miniature crater where the beetle used to be.

"Get the picture?" Grayson asked the boy.

The bully nodded violently. Grayson put him down and the kid went straight to the little skunk faunus. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the kid's money that he stole.

"I'm sorry."

The little faunus timidly took his money back. Both boys looked at Grayson.

"Now, get out of my sight," he told the bullies. Every one of them ran out of the alleyway as fast as their legs could carry them, leaving only Grayson and the faunus boy. The child was just turning around to leave, when Grayson called to him.

"Hey, kid. Come here. I want to tell you something."

The kid nervously complied, afraid that the man was going to do to him what he did to his oppressor. Instead, Grayson kneeled down and placed his large hand gently on the boy's shoulder.

"I'm going to tell you something that I was told when I was your age. It got me through a lot of tough things in life, so I want you to listen carefully, okay?" Grayson spoke softly to the child. His calmingly quiet voice slightly relaxed the little skunk faunus.

"Don't ever let them make you feel ashamed of who you are, of something that you've never had control of in the first place. If they have an issue with your heritage, that is their problem, not yours. It is not your fault. It is _never_ your fault. Because you are a faunus, and you should be proud. You should be happy with the way the you are."

The boy smiled slightly and nodded.

"Now," Grayson continued, "I don't want you to take this advise to the extreme. I don't want you to go out and join the White Fang or immediately start protesting at the Schnee Dust Company. Believe me, I've been burned before. I just want you to know that, in life, some people will like you and some others won't. But, as long as you like yourself, that's all that really matters. Do you understand?"

The skunk faunus nodded again.

"Okay, then," Grayson smiled, "Why don't you run along home, now. Your folks might be missing you."

As he stood up, the little faunus turned around and began exiting the alley. He stopped, looked behind him and meekly said, "Thank you." And with that, he turned the corner and ran down the road. Grayson stood a while, grinning about the child's appreciation. He then rose up into the air and flew in the direction of his next mission.

* * *

As Grayson soared through the sky, he looked down and saw his team amongst the sand. They were fighting against a massive Deathstalker that was said to be terrorizing the town's villagers. He saw his teammates jumping and ducking as they ran around the creature trying to get a hit in. Grayson equipped _Plume Charm_ and began his decent. He switched his weapon from a mace to a flail and began to twirl it above his head. As he fell faster and faster, he swung the weapon at the last second, striking the Deathstalker's stinging tail. The tail was forcefully pushed through the head of the Grimm. Grayson landed on the ground, just as the creature was dissipating and blowing away on a hot Vacuo breeze.

Grayson looked behind him, his team stared at him wide-eyed and mildly annoyed.

"What?" he said, "At least I didn't miss the action."

With a deeply annoyed breath, both Ebony and Poppey began walking back to the village. Only Ringo stayed behind. He crossed his arms and just stared at Grayson.

"Did you hurt the kid?" Ringo asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Grayson replied.

"Oh, don't give me that! You know exactly what I'm talking about."

After a brief pause, Grayson sighed, "I lifted him up and threatened to drop him, but no, I didn't hurt him."

Ringo continued to stare disappointedly at him.

"Come on, you know me," Grayson argued, "I would never wail on a kid. Unlike some people, I actually _have_ morals."

"While that's good and all, it still doesn't help the fact that this is the fiftieth time this has happened," Ringo returned, "Look, Gray. I know that you're highly protective of your kind. I know that you and your mum were mistreated while you were growing up. But, this has got to stop. There are hundreds if not thousands of faunus-haters out there. There's only one of you. You can't take the full responsibility of making them see your kind as equals."

Grayson looked down. Images of his past flowed through his mind. His mother. The constant yelling. The beatings. The thoughts brought tears to his eyes. Ringo noticed this.

"Alright, I'm sorry. I'm done being your therapist," Ringo said, "Now, speaking as your friend, how scared was he?"

"Absolutely terrified. The kid probably wet himself," Grayson chuckled.

"Well, then," Ringo smiled, "I guess he made the top ten."

The two laughed and made their way down the road to catch up with their teammates. But, Ringo's words still lingered in Grayson's mind. He knew that he had to change some things. He just didn't think he was ready, yet.

* * *

"The townspeople thank you four for your kind service. Is there any way we can repay you further?" the village mayor said to them.

"No, just our original bargain will suffice," Grayson replied. Ringo, Poppey, and Ebony all nodded.

"Very well, then." The man reached under his desk and pulled out a briefcase. He opened it, turned it around, and showed Team GRPE the lien inside it.

"One hundred thousand lien, as promised," said the mayor, "You know, several huntsmen that have done us services in the past usually asked for a trade as a reward or refused any offers for one. Yet, you all are asking for money."

"Yeah, well we're not your usual huntsmen," Ringo piped.

"So, what are you, then? Some sort of mercenary group?"

"Something like that," Poppey said. The mayor stared at them for several seconds and then spoke again.

"Well, I guess a deal is a deal. Here you go."

Grayson motioned to Ebony to retrieve the case. Ebony walked up to the mayor's desk, gave the lien a quick once-over, then closed the case.

"Thank you for your kindness, sir. We should really do this again some time," she said. She lifted the container off of the desk and followed the rest of Team GRPE out the mayor's office door. As they filed out of the city hall into the street, not a cloud was in the sky. The village looked brighter than it had ever been. The mercenaries looked amongst themselves, coming to a mental agreement.

"To Vale, then," Grayson remarked.

"To Vale," nodded Ringo.

"To Vale," Poppey agreed.

"To Vale," said Ebony with a sigh.

And they all turned towards the village gate and began their long journey toward Vale through the hot desert dunes that made up Vacuo.


	5. A Dance in the Shade

"I swear to the gods, if I hear one more person complain about their feet hurting, I will pick them up and I will throw them several miles back the way we came," Grayson fumed.

Every member of Team GRPE slugged along slowly through the desert sand, up and down the massive dunes. Their packs full of gear weighed heavily on their backs. They were tired, they were hot, and, at least in Ebony's case, they were miserable.

"How can we not complain?" argued Ebony, "We've been walking and fighting Grimm for hours on end with no break."

"Calm down, princess. We're almost there," mocked Grayson.

"You said that twenty miles ago," Ebony groaned.

"And not a mile longer," Poppey called to them, "Look!"

Ebony, Grayson, and Ringo all looked up to see Poppey on top of a tall dune. She had run ahead of them and climbed it to get a lay of the land. They could see her smiling and pointing to something that they could not see from their position. The three looked at each other and picked up their paces. They all joined Poppey at the top and saw what she was pointing to.

Not too far off into the distance were buildings and huts. Structures large and small. A CCT tower stood above them all, and just underneath it was the colossal step pyramid known as Shade Academy. A wall ran around the perimeter of the city. Orange standards hung all across that wall, each one bearing an image of three swords pointing down.

"Ladies and gentleman," Grayson said, "I give you the City of Vacuo."

* * *

The mercenaries could barely see the city, as the sun was setting in the west behind them. The silhouettes of the buildings created a foreboding atmosphere as the team approached its main gate. Strolling down the main road, large braziers as well as several electrical street lamps lit up the way. Sand blew under their feet as they walked down the stony road toward a large building that was most obviously an inn. Ironically, there was a mat in front of the door that read "Wipe your feet".

They filed into the inn lobby. A large wooden desk stood in front of them. A young woman sat behind it. She looked up at them and smiled.

"Hi, welcome to the Golden Sands Inn," the woman greeted them, "How can I help you?"

"Yeah, do you by any chance have any strong-suction vacuums?" Ringo asked, gesturing to his sand-covered trousers. Poppey forcefully elbowed him in the gut. Ringo bent over, clutching his stomach in pain.

"We'd like a room, please; one with four beds if you can manage it," she said.

"Unfortunately, all of our rooms come with a total of two beds."

"That's fine. We'll take two of them," Grayson replied. He walked up to the desk to pay.

"So, are you guys here for the Gala?" the young woman asked, making small-talk.

"Gala?" Ebony inquired excitedly.

"Shade Academy is having a charity gala tomorrow night to raise money for the people of Vale."

"Oh cool, maybe we can stop by," Grayson said, looking back at his team, "It's been a while since we've had a night off."

The receptionist politely shot him down. "Actually, sir, the event is invite only. Unless you have a large sum of money to donate, I'm afraid you won't be getting in."

"Well," Grayson frowned, "That's unfortunate."

As the receptionist turned around to retrieve the keys to their rooms, the four huntsmen looked amongst themselves and smiled deviously. The woman behind the desk then gave the keys to Grayson.

"Your rooms are numbers 115 and 117. They are just down the hall, right across from each other. Enjoy your stay."

"Thank you, we will" Grayson returned.

As Team GRPE strolled down the narrow hallway toward their rooms, they made sure that they were out of the receptionist's earshot.

"Yeah, we're going to that party, right?" Ringo asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, yeah," smiles Poppey.

"Now since this is a gala, it's most likely black tie. You know what that means: shopping spree!" Ebony sang with delight.

"What's wrong with what we're wearing now?" Grayson asked confusedly.

"Really, have not looked in the mirror lately?" retorted Ebony. Grayson looked down at his attire, then back up at Ebony.

"Fair enough," Grayson nodded.

"Well, I guess that excludes me," Ringo laughed, "I dress black tie every day."

"No, you need to change, too."

"What?! Why?!"

"You have been wearing that same suit for weeks, now. It's sweaty, and dirty, and covered in sand."

"Oh, come on," Ringo complained, "Literally everything here is covered in sand."

"Doesn't matter," Ebony said firmly, "You need to change, and that thing needs to be washed."

Ringo tried to argue more, but he eventually gave up and accepted that the decision had been made for him. He sighed.

"Alright, fine," he muttered.

They finally reached their rooms and stopped. A new issue had arisen: who was to room with who?

"Okay, how about Poppey and I get this room, and Ebony, you and Grayson get the other one."

"Look, man, it's none of my business, but I'm not ready to become an uncle just yet. So...no," Grayson replied.

Ringo frowned. Ebony said nothing. She just blushed.

"How about Ebony and I take this room, and Ringo and Grayson take that one?" suggested Poppey.

"I like that idea better," Ebony agreed, nodding vigorously.

Grayson and Ebony opened their respective doors, leaving Ringo and Poppey in the hall to say goodnight. They wrapped their arms around each other and embraced…for a long time…as if they were never going to see each other again. Poppey gave her one-and-only a single peck on the cheek and walked toward her room.

"I have no idea what you two are going to be doing in there," he said, "Ebony is like the most boring person we know."

"Oh, there's plenty to stuff to do. We could braid each other's hair, do each other's nails, talk about cute boys…"

"I at least hope I'm one of those cute boys."

"Actually, I was talking about Qrow Branwen," Poppey teased.

Ringo let out a sigh. "Great...well, then…goodnight, Girly. Thanks for making me feel woefully inadequate." He turned and opened his room door.

"Love you, too, Precious," Poppey giggled, as she did the same.

"Still hate that name."

"I don't," she laughed. The two closed their doors.

* * *

The next day was an all out shopping montage. Team GRPE bounced from store to store trying to find appropriate attire for their upcoming evening. The day consisted of Grayson trying to find anything that would fit his hulking frame, Ringo struggling to put an outfit together that could get past Ebony's scrutiny, and Poppey just acting as Ebony's personal dress-up doll. Eventually, they all came out satisfied with their choices. And just in time, too.

Ebony strode out of her room into the hallway. She was donned in a long, strapless mermaid gown made of deep purple silk. The dress was form-fitting, curving along her slender figure. Bits of golden trim created an intricate pattern along the sweetheart neckline. Black lace lined the dress's open back, stopping just above her waist. Her flowing chocolate-brown hair gracefully fell down her back like a waterfall. Lengthy silk gloves colored like her dress ran up her arm. To compete the ensemble, she was adorned with pearl earrings and a simple gold chain with a modest timepiece pendant.

As Ebony adjusted the black stilettos on her feet, she called out to Poppey, who was still getting ready in the room.

"Hurry it up, won't you, Poppey?!" Ebony yelled back into the room.

"Just…give me a second," Poppey grunted, apparently experiencing difficulty with her own dress.

"Darling, there is fashionably late and there is just late! While if I could help it, I would rather be neither. But, in this case, I would very much prefer to be the former!"

"Shut up! I'm not ready!" Poppey screamed, slamming the door in Ebony's face.

"The nerve!" Ebony said, offended.

"Sorry," replied Poppey through the door, "I've never done something like this before. Just go ahead to the lobby. I'll catch up."

"As you wish, Madame Liefgreen," Ebony mocked. She then turned on her shoe's skinny heel and sauntered down the long hallway. As she left, she could hear Poppey's muffled voice through the door.

"Okay, maybe if I…nope."

"Oh, bless," Ebony said to herself.

Upon entering the inn's lobby, an audible 'wow' that could be heard from somewhere. Everyone stared at her magnificence as she promenaded like a model into the room.

Ebony got a good look at the boys, who were waiting there for her and Poppey. Grayson stood there in a light gray two-piece suit. Underneath his coat-tailed jacket, he wore a pure white dress shirt, a skinny black necktie, and unseen black suspenders. Round, royal blue cufflinks were adorned at the end of his shirt sleeves. Ebony looked down at his feet. His massive appendages were still bare as usual, since no shoe could ever fit him. She slightly giggled…on the inside.

She peered over at Ringo. His attire was a bit flashier than she preferred, but at least it was better than his typical red and green. Ringo wore a plain black three-piece suit, complete with pants, jacket, and vest. He donned a ruffle-fronted golden yellow shirt and a black bowtie, which displayed diagonal, sparkly gold pinstripes. Like Grayson, Ringo also wore cufflinks. They were square-shaped and colored with a fiery red. However, unlike Grayson, he wore fancy dress shoes in place of his sandals. They were a pleasing, shiny, metallic gold color.

Ebony was thoroughly impressed. They cleaned up incredibly well.

Ringo began fiddling with his shoes. While they were stylish, they were extremely uncomfortable, at least to him.

"I don't know how people wear these things," he complained, "My feet can't breathe."

"Well, you better get used to it because you are not going back and getting your sandals. I won't have it," Ebony said firmly.

"But I—" Ringo started.

"No buts. You are wearing those and that's final."

"Ugh! Fine." At that exact moment, Ringo perked up and his attitude completely changed. He was suddenly not worried about his shoes anymore. Grayson and Ebony followed his glance. Poppey had arrived, and she was stunning.

Her dress exhibited an enticing gradient pattern. It began with a sea green at the neckline of the glittery bodice, which clung tightly to her slim physique. The pattern faded down to a white at the bottom of her tulle skirt, stopping just above her boney knees. Attached to her neckline were short, furrowed sleeves that fell off her shoulder. Her left sleeve only slightly obscured her new tattoo: a Sea Feilong coiling and stretching down her toned arm, ending at her wrist. On her feet were eye-catching platform heels, shimmering with a glistening silver hue. Poppey's white, shoulder-length hair was styled in a chopstick updo, which was fixed into place by her late father's pipe; and her bangs draped across her right eye, concealing her eyepatch. To top everything off, like frosting on a cake, she modelled a pair of silver drop earrings and an ornate silver necklace with an elegant anchor charm. Overall, she was a knockout.

Upon seeing her, Ebony became giddy and was giggling with excitement. Grayson gave her a nod of approval, while Ringo's jaw completely hit the floor. After several seconds of standing there dumbfounded, Ringo regained his composure and glided with exaggerated swagger over to his girlfriend. The way he walked over to her made Poppey blush.

"Girly, if looks could kill, you'd also be a gun," he said with a smolder. Poppey's face became even more red and she punched him in the arm, breaking his smolder.

"Oww!" Ringo winced, clutching his arm. And for good measure, Ebony stormed up and slapped him upside his curly-haired head.

"Again, oww!" Ringo yelled.

"What did I say about pick-up lines?!" Ebony shouted.

"I don't remember!" retaliated Ringo, "You slapped me so hard I forgot!" Ebony just glared at him, guilting him into doing a second take.

"In all seriousness though, Poppey, you look absolutely beautiful…and gorgeous…and amazing…and just looking at you right now makes me feel absolutely honored to be called yours." Face still red, Poppey wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"And, quite frankly, I wish you'd dress like this all the time," Ringo joked.

Poppey chuckled and she kissed him.

"Alright, people. Less necking, more leaving. Let's _goooo_!" urged Ebony, as she migrated everyone out the door.

* * *

Team GRPE was indeed fashionably late. They walked up the many steps of Shade Academy's pyramid and approached the entrance to the ballroom. As it turned out, they were not the only late-comers to the Gala, for they had to wait in line.

"Well, at least we're here," Ebony sighs.

"Ever the optimist," Grayson joked.

Ebony turned to the others to fill them in on their entry strategy.

"Okay, now. I have already sent in our donation. Grayson our party is listed under your name. All you have to do is say your last name and they will find it on the list. Can you remember your own name?"

"Hey, my last name is Dunce. What could possibly go wrong?" Grayson joked.

"How were you able to pull this off, Ebony?" Poppey inquired.

"Oh, I have my ways," she returned.

"And, by that, she means she spent all our money," concluded Ringo.

"Not all of it…just a rather large portion of it."

They finally reached the front of the line. There stood a middle-aged man in a tuxedo with a clipboard in his hands.

"Welcome all," the man said, "Are you on the list?"

"Yes. Dunce; party of four," Grayson answered.

"You're going to have to forgive me. This list, for some reason, is not in alphabetical order. Let's see: Oum, Shawcross, Luna, Haddock, Burns, Andersmith…oh, here we go. Dunce. Alright, everything seems to be in order. Thank you all for your donations. Enjoy your evening." The man smiled and let them past. What they saw inside was an absolute spectacle.

The dance floor was completely crowded. Humans and faunus alike were dipping and twirling around, showing off their moves in their 'unorthodox' Vacuo chic. Quite frankly, the only people who looked out of place were the ones who actually gave a damn about what they were wearing, which mostly included visitors and anyone not native to the region. The ballroom was dimly lit and there were candles everywhere, creating a warming, comfortable tone. Tables of hors d'oeuvres lined the back wall and servers carrying trays of champagne bustled around the place.

The music stopped and all of the guests looked ahead to the stage. Everyone saw a dark-haired woman in a black dress sitting in an automatic wheelchair. She laid back in it and sat stiffly, like she was incapable of moving. A short, squinty-eyed bald man stood at her side. He was dressed in a cobalt-colored suit with a crimson dress shirt and white bowtie. The man stepped up to a microphone in front of them and he spoke.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. For those of you who don't know me, I am Professor Monk Westflight. I advise for this wonderful woman sitting behind me. You may know her better than you do me. Please give a big round of applause for the headmaster of Shade Academy: the lovely Breanna Cornwell!"

The crowd erupted with cheering and clapping of hands. Headmaster Cornwell smiled slightly as she accepted the praise. Professor Westflight grinned and brought the microphone over to her. He adjusted the device to a lower height so she would be able to speak into it.

"Thank you, all. I am touched by your kindness," she said, "I am sure you are aware of why we are all here, tonight: the Fall of Beacon and the pain and suffering that it has wrought on the citizens of Vale. The generous donations that you have made for this cause will sincerely aid those who have lost their homes or their loved ones in the wreckage. Now, I do not wish to sadden you with these thoughts. Tonight should be a happy occasion, for you have chosen to use what you had to help your neighbor in their time of need. And for that, I applaud you. As a thank you for your sacrifices, we here at Shade Academy hope that you delight in our festivities. Alright, I have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. Please, do a crippled Vacuo woman a favor and enjoy your evening."

And on that note, she and Professor Westflight stepped, or in Breanna's case rolled, off the stage and into the crowd. The audience clapped, the music was kicked on, and the dance floor was active again. Ringo's face lit up when he heard that a slow song was playing. He grabbed Poppey's hand and pulled her out on the floor.

"Come on, Girly. Let's sway," he said. Leaving Ebony and Grayson on the sidelines, they disappeared into the crowd. Ebony crossed her arms and sighed. Several strapping young men approached her and asked her to dance. Grayson watched as she turned every one of them down.

"You know we came here to dance and have fun," Grayson said to her, "So far, you're doing neither of those things."

"Oh, come off it. I'm having _loads_ of fun," she argued.

"Really? Who'd you dance with?" Ebony's face got red. She started to speak when Grayson interrupted her.

"You don't have to plead your case. I already know the answer." Ebony sighed and said nothing.

"Why did you turn down all of those guys? Are you trying to be some sort of ice queen? You feel you're too good…too superior…to dance with anyone? Are you…"

"I can't dance, alright?!" she said loudly. She turned away from him, embarrassed. "I grew up with four brothers, my mum passed away, my father worked…I just was never taught how." Tears began to well up in her eyes. Grayson sighed. He took off his jacket and placed it on a nearby chair.

"What are you doing?" Ebony asked. He smiled slightly and offered her his hand. She stared at it confusedly.

"Come on," Grayson told her, "I'm going to teach you to how to dance."

Ebony scoffed. " _You_ are going to teach _me_? You're havin' a laugh." Grayson gave her a look that suggested otherwise.

"Can you even dance?" Ebony asked.

"Ebony, I have two flat feet. That doesn't mean I have two left feet." He reached his hand out further. Ebony hesitated, but then placed her tender hand in his and she was led, or rather pulled, to the dance floor. Grayson stood close to Ebony. He took her left hand and placed it on his own shoulder. He then took his own hand and positioned it on her side.

"Now, I know this may be hard for you to hear, but, in dancing, it's the guy that usually leads," Grayson said with a smirk.

"Hilarious," retorted Ebony. Grayson then began to teach Ebony several basic steps for a slow dance. She was taught which foot to move and where to put it. After several attempts, she appeared to be getting it.

"Alright, right foot back. Now, to the side. Forward. See? It's not so hard once you get the hang of it," encouraged Grayson. Ebony smiled. She was doing it. She was dancing.

"Now, how about we kick things up a notch?" suggested Grayson. He then raised his arm and twirled Ebony in place. She laughed as he did so. Grayson spun her again and then leaned her into a dip.

"My word, Mr. Dunce. I'm impressed. What's your secret?" Ebony asked. After a brief pause, Grayson responded.

"My mother taught me how to dance when I was little. Growing up as a circus performer, dancing was kind of in the job description, no matter what act you did."

Ebony was mildly surprised. That was the first time in a long while that Grayson had even mentioned his depressing past, let alone his mother. She felt embarrassed yet honored to have witnessed such a response from him.

"Does it sadden you to talk about her? Your mother, I mean," she asked

"A little, but in my eyes, the good memories outweigh the bad ones. Everything that I have done in my life I did for her…she made me the man I am today." A tear fell down his cheek. Ebony stopped dancing and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"You know I'm here if you want to talk. And I'm sure that Ringo and Poppey would say the same." Grayson returned Ebony's hug.

"I know," he said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Professor Westflight conversing with several guests. Monk left the cheerful lot and headed for the exit. Grayson saw his expression and his demeanor take a complete one-eighty turn, going from happy-go-lucky to a man up to no good. Grayson alerted Ebony and prompted her to look. The two stared as the Professor turned to make sure no one was paying heed to his absence, apparently not noticing Ebony and Grayson. Seeming satisfied, he strolled out of the building and headed for the main courtyard.

The pair ogled on as Monk Westflight disappeared into the darkness outside. They shifted their gaze back at each other.

"Should we go after him?" Ebony asked.

"No. We're off the clock tonight," Grayson replied, "For now, let's just dance." And they did so. They danced the night away, but the suspicious behavior that Professor Westflight exhibited still burned in in the backs of their minds. They knew that they needed to get to Vale, but, for the time being, one thing was for certain: Team GRPE was not leaving Vacuo anytime soon.

* * *

 **A/N: Firstly, concerning Ebony and Poppey's dress descriptions, please let me explain. I am fully aware that there some fashion terms that most fanfiction readers probably would not fully understand. If you are wondering why I know so much dress and fashion terminology, I have three sisters. Let's leave it at that.**

 **One major liberty was taken in this chapter, and that was the addition of the characters of Breanna Cornwell and Monk Westflight. These two characters are allusions to the Scarecrow and the Flying Monkey from the Wizard of Oz respectively. I am mainly going under the assumption that most, if not all, of the huntsmen academy headmasters are allusions to Oz characters (i.e. Ozpin=Oz, Ironwood=Tin Man, Leonardo Lionheart=Cowardly Lion). It would seem the most likely that Shade Academy's headmaster would be an allusion to the Scarecrow as that character has not yet been used. More details will be added to both characters in a later chapter.**

 **When I said "unorthodox Vacuo chic," that was a reference to a quote from Sun Wukong in Volume 2, Chapter 6 "Burning the Candle." Sun mentioned that Vacuo is 'not a shirt-and-tie kind of place.' I will stop there and leave the rest up to your imagination.**


	6. Broken Wings

**A/N: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Between school and work, I haven't really had time to sit down and write, but here it is finally.**

* * *

Two weeks had gone by since Moose had sent the courier with his letter to Grayson, with no word as to whether or not it had been received. Since the attack, Grimm activity had become increasingly more prevalent, not a day went by without a skirmish at the gate; however, few injuries were sustained by anyone. Gron's condition had been incrementally improving over time, but he was yet to be able to maintain consciousness for more than an hour or two at a time. The wound in his chest had been healing nicely, thanks to a combination of his own herbal salves and the doctor's engineered medicine. O'Malley said he would live, but the fall he'd taken had shattered the hollow bones in his left wing, so Gron wasn't going to be flying any time soon.

He had been awake when that bit of unfortunate news had been relayed. He was, understandably, none too pleased by it.

"Son of a _bitch_!" His raspy voice could be heard throughout the encampment, "How long, Doc?"

O'Malley was slightly terrified of the enraged faunus. "It's difficult to say," he stammered, "Things like this just have to run their course. With any luck, your wing will mend itself within a few months."

"A few months?" Gron was disheartened to hear this. "You're sure?"

O'Malley shook his head, a strand of his graying hair falling into his face, " As I said, I don't know. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Great, just one more thing I have to worry about," Gron sighed.

With that, Doc O'Malley made his way out of the room, leaving Azure and Gron alone. Moose and Titian were currently out helping Prof. Goodwitch clear out and rebuild the Academy. Azure and her husband had been at odds ever since he had called on Team GRPE for aid. She hadn't yet forgiven their abandonment of Team MGTA in the heat of battle, but that's a tale for another day.

Gron stood up slowly and walked over to a small, porcelain sink with a dingy mirror on the wall above it. He leaned over and splashed some water on his face, breathing in deeply. Taking a towel, Gron dried his face and looked at his reflection. He appeared to have aged a decade in the past few months; lines and creases were forming around his eyes and cheekbones, and his skin was slightly paler than usual.

Azure possessed an uncanny ability to judge a person's emotions simply by peering into their eyes; and looking through the mirror, she could see more than the rage that Gron was exhibiting in his. She sensed an unbearable amount of sadness and heartache like he had experienced some great tragedy. He was normally brooding, but as of late he was downright cold. His normal sarcastic remarks now had actual hints of hostility, and he was rather short-tempered. She wondered if something had happened during his visit home, to Patch, but had never gotten around to asking.

"Something's botherin' you," Azure observed. "I can see it written all over your face."

Still angry at Doc's news, Gron snapped back at her, "Oh, really? You think so?" He shifted his body and turned to face her. "Took you long enough."

Azure knew that if she didn't calm him down, and fast, his lungs would cease to function without his mask. "Gron, I'm worried about you, we all are," she said softly. "If you'll just talk to me…maybe I can help. If not, I can at least share some of the load."

In her voice, a slight catch could be heard. Azure loved her teammates like family, and Gron was no exception. Seeing him endure this kind of torment broke her heart. Upon hearing the genuine sympathy and care in her tone, Gron's expression morphed from anger to a childish look of despair and his eyes began to tear up. Azure ran to catch him as his legs gave out.

"Hey, hey, hey, easy there. I'm here let me help," she whispered, embracing him in a hug. Azure could hear faint sobs in his breath, he was trembling. "Just relax, let it all out." She guided the broken faunus to O'Malley's makeshift desk, seating him in the doctor's chair. All of a sudden, a thought popped into her head. A memory of her childhood, when she and her family lived in Atlas, her mother had a surefire way to improve your mood. If not, it would at least help dull any pain you were feeling. "Wait here. I'll be right back," Azure commanded.

After a few minutes, she returned, holding two cups in her left hand and a bottle of whiskey in her right.

Realizing what her plan was, Gron vehemently shook her head and told her, "No. I see what you're trying to do, but…just no," he shook his head. "You know I can't stand that stuff."

Azure had a smug grin on her face as she sat down. "How many times have yer 'natural remedies' saved my tail?" she asked, with a joking flit of her tail. " _And_ how many times have I refused to take them? Hmm?"

" _You can't argue with me, can you?"_ she thought.

Gron was, quite clearly, perturbed by the fact that he had no counter-argument. "Alright fine, one drink. No more than that. Deal?" he conceded.

Proud that she'd won, Azure agreed, "I won't force you to drink any more than you want."

As she poured the amber-colored liquid into the two plastic cups, Azure glanced at his broken wing. A wooden splint held it stiff and his ashen colored feathers were ragged and worn, much like the rest of him. She then slid one of the cups across the table, enough whiskey to be considered a shot, however, with the lighting in the room the way it was, it was difficult to see exactly how much she had poured.

Gron gazed into the drink, slowly picked it up, sniffed its contents, and winced like a child who didn't want to take his medicine.

Seeing the apprehension in her friend, Azure told him, "You want to just shoot it back and swallow."

"It smells like window cleaner," he said with disgust.

She had already taken hers and was pouring another, "Tastes like it too. C'mon, it's whiskey, it's not supposed to taste good, it just needs to get the job done."

"That's not comforting,"

Gron decided to just take it like a man. He closed his eyes, lifted the cup to his lips and shot the elixir down his throat. His reaction to it made Azure want to laugh, but that would, for obvious reasons, be inappropriate. The whiskey forced Gron into a coughing fit as it burned its way down his esophagus. This made her chuckle a bit.

"Good stuff, huh?" she said.

In after hacking up a lung, he said, "No! I don't understand how you people can drink that garbage."

She laughed, "That 'garbage' is gonna help you lighten up a bit."

After a few moments, Azure took another shot and asked, "So…let's talk. You're in a funk, and I want to help."

As the alcohol kicked in, Gron relaxed a little, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. She saw that his eyes were watering, whether they were tears caused by the coughing or the memories, she couldn't tell.

"Alright, I guess it's time I finally got this off my chest," he said with a sigh. "Well, it happened a couple of months ago. You know, when I went with Oobleck and Port to Patch? They went to visit one of my old teachers from Signal Academy, Taiyang Xiao Long, and I went home to see my parents."

Azure took another shot and asked, "How long had it been since you saw them last?"

"Since before the Vytal Festival, at least."

He paused, looking solemnly down at the table, and raised his cup, signaling her to pour him another round. With some surprise, she obliged, and he took a little easier this time. He still coughed, just not as fiercely as before.

"Anyway, I got home at about sundown..."

* * *

Gron was so excited to see his dear parents and get his mind off the horrible events that occurred over the past few months. He couldn't wait to sit down and talk with them about all that had experienced since his last visit.

However, when he arrived at his old house, Gron found it dark and cold like a tomb. As he stepped through the front door, a foul odor flooded his lungs; the smell of rotting cadavers and spoiled food made him wretch. With his breathing mask on, he walked inside. The house's interior was dusty and dim, and the setting sun was casting shadows which made it hard to see.

With absolute fear in his voice, he called out for them, "Mom? Dad? You here?"

 _No reply._

He shouted again, "Hello?"

The faunus man walked up the stairs to the second floor of the house, much to his own shame, fighting back tears the whole way. When he reached the top, he was at the beginning of a hallway, two doors on the left wall and one on the right, all closed. He walked slowly towards his parents' bedroom at the far end of the hall. Each second felt like an eternity. The situation felt surreal, like a dream…or a nightmare. Finally, Gron came to the door but was hesitant to open it, for fear of what he would find, although he already knew. Turning the knob, he stepped into the room, and upon seeing the bed, his eyes filled up with tears, his legs gave out from under him, and his knees hit the floor as he released a cry of pure grief and rage. His mechanical screams echoed through the house and the surrounding forest.

Lying on the bed and covered in blankets were the bodies of his parents. Their sunken faces and pale skin were an indication they had passed some number of weeks ago. On the nightstands at each side of the bed were things like moldy teacups, ice-packs, and bottles of some kind of medicine. They had clearly been sick, and, by the look of things, they had died in their sleep.

Gron's pained sobbing continued on well into the night. He kept on running the facts through his head. Had he been there, could he have helped them? Why didn't they go into town to find a doctor? These questions could not be answered and, should he have kept asking them, would have eventually driven him mad.

Finally, he rose to his feet, and, with tears in his eyes, he went to work carrying the corpses out of the house. A few minutes later, he was outside in the backyard, under a large oak tree, both his mother and father laying on the ground on either side of him. They had always told Gron that they wanted to be buried under this tree, and now it was time for him to fulfill that wish. Knowing he didn't have much time, he decided to use two of his bombs to dig the graves. Placing the devices in the ground, he looked at his mother, swaddled like a baby in sheets.

"I'm sorry. It's the only thing I can think to do," he, said, weakly.

After backing up, he pressed a button on his wrist, detonating the explosives with a muffled _**BLAM**_. It didn't take long to bury the two, and afterward, he set himself to carving grave markers out of spare wood that his father kept in the toolshed. Upon setting them up, Gron began to speak his final words to his parents.

"I should have been here. I should have just left Vale to the Grimm," he sobbed, "Why didn't you send someone to come get me? I could have saved you."

He sat in silence for a while longer, until it was close to the time he was to meet Port and Oobleck. He began walking away from his parents' graves. From his home. From his old life. But before he left, he turned to face the house he was raised in. With one, swift movement he tossed a single fire dust grenade back at the house, it was set alight immediately. And it was right then and there that a part of Gron Lakare died along with his mother and father; burned away, never to be seen again.

The only proof that anyone ever lived there were two wooden grave markers.

 _'Here Lies Ox and Mayple Lakare: Devoted Spouses and Parents_

 _May You Rest in Peace'_

* * *

Over the next half hour or so, Gron wore his heart on his sleeve and retold the story of discovering his parents' deceased bodies, and the subsequent burial, pausing every few minutes to regain his composure or take a drink. Having slightly adjusted to the liquor, he became more and more relaxed and had a more positive attitude when he was finished. Azure had emptied nearly half of the bottle by herself and was feeling a little tipsy, but she never showed any signs of being truly inebriated.

"Well, I really am sorry," She said, slurring the word ' _sorry_ ', "but at least you're still here, and you got us.

"You're right. And I guess I should apologize too…I've treated all of you like crap when you had nothing to do with it."

He looked into his cup, analyzing his reflection in the whiskey. A single tear dropped from his cheek, and he fell silent. For a while, the only sound in the clinic was the whistle of air through the vents.

The peace was finally broken when Azure spoke up, "I've never told anyone this, but my parents are as good as dead."

"What does that mean?" Gron asked, puzzled.

"They're slaves in the Schnee Dust Company's mines in Atlas."

"But I thought slavery was illegal worldwide."

"It is," she said. "They're not actually slaves, they're just indentured workers. When I was a baby, my father was on his way to prison for stealing food to feed me and my mother. The S.D.C. bought his way out in exchange for a few years of labor and offered to provide room and board if they both worked in the mines," she took a drink. "A young faunus couple with a hungry baby to feed? They'd be stupid not to take the deal. From what I can remember, it wasn't all bad at first, I stayed with my grandpa while they worked during the days; and, since she was an actual employee, my mother got paid a bit."

With a grave look on his face, Gron speculated, "I'm guessing that didn't last very long?"

With an exaggerated chuckle, Azure replied, "Nope. When I was about nine, some stuck-up S.D.C. accountant was sharing a train car with them. As his sick idea of a joke, he all of a sudden screamed out that my parents had tried to rob him. Atlas being the bigoted place that it is, they lost everything and then became indentured laborers of the Schnee Dust Company. And to top it all off, soon after, the White Fang came up and made it difficult to live a normal life as a faunus."

"How did you get out of there?" he asked. "With both of your parents working in the mines, how did you get to Beacon?"

"Well, about eleven years ago, I was waiting for a train, when I noticed a group of human boys ganging up on and mugging an old faunus man. It had been a long day and I was irritated, so I just walked over and punched the biggest one, knocked him out cold."

"Wow. What made you do that?" he inquired with interest.

"Earlier that day at school I saw the same thing and did nothing. So, I felt like I had to do something to make up for that. Anyway, his friends were pretty shocked to see their beef-stick buddy laid flat. They looked at me and saw I was in no mood to screw around, I think one might have even ruined his fancy trousers," she paused, shooting back another swig. "They tried to rush me, but, as you can imagine, that didn't work out well for them."

Gron had to laugh at the thought of the humans trying to gang up on Azure, only to have their butts handed to them. "No, I expect not." He pictured her, all six-and-a-half feet of her, tossing the boys around like ragdolls, and them not being able to get a single hit in edgewise. "What happened after that?"

"The police were called, and I was arrested. Since I wasn't old enough to be tried as an adult, I got relatively easy; just a small stint in juvie. While I was in there, I got a visitor, a man with a strange-looking cane. It turned out to be Professor Ozpin, he was apparently visiting General Ironwood, the headmaster of Atlas Academy. He'd heard about me standing up for the old man at the station and came to see me."

"That's weird, that he just dropped in to visit you. He didn't even know you," Gron said, puzzled.

"It seemed even weirder to me at the time. Ozpin asked me why I did what I did, and I told him because it was the right thing to do. I think he liked that answer. He asked if I wanted to come to Beacon, help fight for people who couldn't fight for themselves, I said yes. A few months later, I met all of you in the entrance test, and I've never looked back."

"What about your parents, did you ever try to help them?"

"After I got out of jail I went home and told them. They said it was a good opportunity, and that I should go and make something of myself. I told that I would come back and help them someday, and I was planning on asking Moose about it after the Vytal Festival but…well, you know the rest," she concluded with another shot. The bottle was finally emptied when she finished pouring.

Gron was impressed with her life story and felt truly upset about her parents. He looked into his cup, seeing that he still had some whiskey that he hadn't drunk yet. With toasting motion, he proclaimed, "Well…to moving on from sad stories."

Azure laughed, "I'll drink to that."

They both down their drinks and leaned back in their chairs, letting the liquor do its job. With good reason, they both felt like they had grown a little closer that night. If not, at least they both had one less weight on their shoulders.

* * *

 **A/N:** **Sorry for the lack of action in this one, but I figured it would be nice to get to know the characters a bit more, as they haven't had much exposition.**

 **And just because I know people are going to be confused about Gron's parents' colors/names, here ya go.**

 **Mayple refers to the reddish-orange color that a maple tree's leaves turn in the fall.**

 **Ox is a shortened word alluding to oxidation, a chemical process which turns copper green.**

 **UPDATE: I decided to take some commenter advice and moved Gron's flashback from chapter 3 to this chapter.**


	7. Monk-y Business

**A/N: I apologize profusely for the lateness of this chapter. Finals were a bitch and working during the holidays sucks. But, you know, life happens. Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

"BLEEEEUUUURRRRGGGHHHHEE!"

Ringo could hear the horrid sounds of retching and vomiting coming from the bathroom door. Poppey had been in there since they got back from last night's dance. And, judging by what he was hearing, she would be in there for several hours more.

He knocked on the door, "You doing okay in there, Girly?" More retching sounds.

"Does that answer your question?" she sputtered.

"Nah, sorry, I didn't catch that. You mind running that by me again?" Ringo jested.

"Ringo, will you shut the fu-ueeeeeuuuuurrrrggggghhhh!" After several minutes more, Poppey continued her quarrel.

"You did this to me!" she yelled.

"Well, how was I supposed to know there was spinach in that pesto?!" he argued.

Her response was another intense session of vomiting. Suddenly, Ringo heard a knock on the door. He opened it to see Grayson standing at the entrance.

"Hey. How's Poppey doing?" the burly faunus asked. The two then heard more pained heaves emanating from the bathroom.

Ringo looked back Grayson. "That answer your question?" he said dryly.

"Well, we're going to need her on her toes soon. We've got a job—" Grayson was interrupted by Poppey emerging from the bathroom, her face pale and sickly, like that of a corpse. She was still wearing her pajamas; a pair of green and blue plaid fleece pants and an aquamarine graphic-tee that sported a picture of a cute little steamboat. And to top it all off, her hair…was…everywhere. The two stared at her with expressions of both pity and horror.

"What are you looking at?" she coughed.

"Nice to see you, too," Grayson answered sarcastically.

Poppey rolled her eye, walked over to her bed, and fell face-first onto it. She buried her face in a pillow and spoke with a muffled voice. "My body…is trying…to die," she groaned.

Grayson turned his attention back to Ringo. "So, team meeting in ten?"

Ringo looked back at Poppey, then back at Grayson. "Yeah, how 'bout thirty?"

"Fair enough," Grayson nodded, "Have fun." He began walking down the hall as Ringo closed the door.

Ringo then came over to Poppey's bed and sat down next to her. He could hear faint sobs as he did so. He rubbed his hand up and down her back to comfort her.

"This day can't get any worse," Poppey cried.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I should have considered your allergy to leafy greens before I gave you that flatbread. Next time, I'll ask…" He was interrupted by more muffled sobbing. "This isn't about the allergy, is it?" Ringo asked.

She lifted her face and looked up at him, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Today's the day, Ringo," she answered.

Ringo knew exactly what she meant by that. That day was the anniversary of the death of Poppey's father. After a brief moment of silence, he spoke again. "You know, you've told me about Sterling hundreds of time, but can you tell me about him again? It might ease the pain."

"You say that every year," Poppey grunted.

"And have I ever steered you wrong?" he returned.

Not able to come up with any sort of counter-argument, Poppey sighed. "Sterli…my father was the toughest sailor that you would ever see. He was brave; he was cunning; he was smart…"

"Just like his daughter," Ringo smiled.

Poppey's face turned red as she grinned slightly. She continued. "You know, I never even met him until I was fifteen. It was during the time I was still on the run from the foster care system. Somehow, I scrounged up enough money to pay for a ticket on his ferry. When he was making his rounds and talking with some passengers, he saw me and thought I was a stowaway. He chased me all over the boat," She giggled when she said that last remark.

Ringo just smiled and nodded.

"He finally caught up to me and he got a good look of my face. He stopped dead in his tracks and thought I was my mother. I am apparently her spitting image." She paused.

"And that's how you two found each other," Ringo finished.

"Yeah. Then, after nearly a year of traveling the world and hearing all of his stories…it happened."

Ringo looked down at her arm, which was covered with her new tattoo. "The Feilong," he guessed.

"He told me to stay put. Next thing I knew, I was thrown off the ship into some nearby rocks. When I came to, the Grimm was gone, the ferry was destroyed, and there were bodies everywhere. The only things left of my father were his hat and his pipe."

More tears welled in her eyes as she and Ringo both looked to a nearby dresser to see that same hat and pipe. The same ones that she keeps with her at all times, wherever she goes.

"I wish I could have met him. He seems like a great man. You think he would've liked me?" Ringo asked.

"Hmm…no, not really," Poppey sighed, "He probably would've hated your guts." She laughed.

Ringo was just about to argue when she turned pale again, shot straight up, and quickly leapt out of the bed. She sprinted to the bathroom, hand over her mouth.

"Just like my guts hate me right now!"

Ringo laughed as she slammed the door shut. As he heard more sounds of another rousing session of hurling, Ringo pulled his scroll out of his coat pocket. He tapped on Grayson's name and typed his message. _"Make it an hour."_

* * *

"It's been an hour. Where are they?!" growled a frustrated Ebony.

Grayson sat with her in the hotel lobby and watched as she checked the time on Hummy Bug Cratchit every few minutes. She was always a stickler when it came to timeliness, and she has a true hatred for poor punctuality. If she wanted to, she could be the next Glynda Goodwitch. An idea which both amused and terrified him.

"Would you just relax?" he said to Ebony, "They'll be here."

"Be that as it may, it is still no excuse to—" Ebony began.

"—to be late. Yeah, I get it, geez. You'd think a night on the town would loosen you up a bit," he interjected.

"What are you talking about?" she retorted, "I'm as loose as can be."

"You sure about that? You're more tightly wound as that clock of yours. Or that watch chain you have wrapped around your—"

"Ugh, there they are!" Ebony said, making no attempt to hide her annoyance.

Grayson looked to where she was gesturing. Ringo and a fully-dressed Poppey were just entering the lobby. Poppey's skin-tone was nearly back to its usual tan color. Her condition had definitely improved since he last saw her. But, something about her still felt awry. Her entire demeanor seemed off.

Though she was looking well, she walked as if she were pained. She stared at the tacky lobby carpet, careful not to meet anyone's gaze. And, if he looked closely, he could make out the slightest hint of tears welling in her eyes. Poppey was no longer sick. She was sad. Heartbroken even. That could mean only one thing.

"Today's the day, isn't it?" Grayson asked her.

Still not meeting his gaze, she nodded.

"Are you okay enough to come with us?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered quietly after a slight pause.

"Are you sure? You can still sit this one out if you want to, and no one will think less of you because of it."

"No, I'm coming with you and that's final," Poppey returned with a mildly aggressive tone.

Grayson, Ebony, and Ringo all looked at each other and came to a silent agreement.

"Alright, then," Grayson said, "Let's go." They all got up from their seats and headed out the door into the sandy Vacuo streets.

"So, I assume everyone knows the reason why we're not leaving Vacuo yet?" Grayson asked his team as they walked down the road in the direction Shade Academy.

Poppey raised her hand, "Not really. I was more focused on vomiting."

"...And I was focused on Vomit Girl," Ringo added.

Poppey opened her mouth to protest Ringo's nickname for her, but she stopped her herself. "Yeah, okay," she conceded with a sigh.

"Well, then allow me to fill you in," Ebony offered, "Last night at the dance, Grayson and I saw something strange while we were dancing." She looked over to see Ringo with a stupid grin on his face. "Oh, shut up, Ringo," she spat.

"I didn't say anything," giggled Ringo.

"Anyway," Grayson chimed in. "Professor Westfight exhibited some suspicious behavior last night. We saw him slinking away from the dance when he thought no one was looking."

"Well, that's not necessarily suspicious. For all we know, he just left to call his mother," Poppey suggested.

" _Or_ he's up to something. Something bad," he countered. "Either way, we're going to find out. _Today_."

"So, what's the plan, boss?" Ringo inquired.

"For now, recon. We don't know for sure if Westflight is even up to anything."

"Then we need to stake him out until we catch him in the act? Shouldn't be a problem," Ebony concluded.

As they continued their walking banter, they entered the Shade Academy grounds. Beacon may have fallen weeks ago, but that did not stop the other huntsman schools from starting their school years. Students and teachers both hustled and bustled to and fro around the courtyard. The campus seemed a bit more crowded than one would expect, as it appeared not many students stuck around Beacon after its fall. A large portion of them decided to continue their education and transferred to either Shade of Haven Academy. Not Atlas, though, not since they chose to close their borders. As Team GRPE kept walking, they got some strange, confused looks from several groups of students, no doubt wondering why a team of fully-fledged "huntsmen" was paying a visit. Poppey was the first to notice this.

"Guys, I think we have an audience," she said. The others looked to see what she was talking about.

"Then perhaps we should all split up," Ebony suggested.

Grayson nodded. "Agreed. We're calling too much attention as a group. Besides, it would be easier for us to cover more ground if we separate. Ringo, you and Ebony cover the north side of the school. Poppey and I will take the south. If you see Westflight, do not engage. Tail him until you discover anything, or at least until you lose him. Meet back here in an hour to report any findings."

"Alright, we have our mission. Come on, gang. Time to split up and look for clues!" Poppey exclaimed a little over-enthusiastically. The other three members of GRPE looked at her with expressions of confusion. Poppey's face turned beet red.

"…yes…What she said," uttered Ebony. "Come, Ringo. We've got a lot of ground to cover."

Ringo walked over to give Poppey a quick goodbye hug and kiss, which was apparently not quick enough for Ebony.

"Let's go, Romeo," she said as she grabbed him by the ear and pulled him away.

"Owowowow! Alright, alright, I'm going!"

Poppey and Grayson chuckled as she dragged him across the courtyard and around a corner. They then turned and walked in the other direction to begin their search. After strolling in silence for several minutes with nary a Westflight sighting, Grayson could no longer take the quiet decided to speak.

"So…how are you feeling?" he asked Poppey.

"Much better, actually. My gut pretty much swimming in antacids right now, so yeah. Everything is just peachy," she replied.

"You know damn well that I'm not asking about your stomach," Grayson said, calling her on her bull.

Poppey sighed and answered truthfully, "Not bad…but, then again, not great either."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she said.

"You sure?" Grayson persisted.

"Yes."

"Because you know I'm here if—"

"Look! There's Westflight!" she deflected.

"Come on, don't change the subject. I'm trying to have a heartfelt conversation here. Can't you be serious for, like, one minute?"

"I _am_! Look!" she pointed.

Grayson rolled his eyes and peered in the direction she was pointing. To his surprise, the man was actually there. Ahead of them was a miniature oasis-like park with desert foliage that covered practically every square inch of the sandy ground. And there he was, sitting at a table in a quaint dining area. On the table in front of him was a large cup of coffee, a half-eaten muffin, and a morning newspaper. Before the pair could react, the Professor looked up from his broadsheet and saw them staring at him. He appeared to have recognized them from last night's gala and raised his coffee mug in a gesture of greeting before taking a long, finishing swig. Grayson and Poppey watched as he rose from his seat, folded up his paper, and walked away shoving one more bite of muffin into his mouth.

The two mercenaries looked to each other and nodded in agreement. Now was their chance. It was time to go into stealth mode. Grayson pulled out his scroll and sent a message to Ebony: " _Westflight sighted. In pursuit."_

He then silenced his device and shoved it back into his coat pocket. Poppey did the same. As soon as the Professor was just out of sight, they began to follow him down the path. They kept themselves hidden with the oasis greenery on the right side of the walkway, which, thankfully, was dense enough to obscure Grayson's hulking physique. The pair quietly crept along on the tree-line and drew closer to Westflight's position, close enough to hear him humming a cheery tune as he walked. His song was interrupted, however, by a female voice coming from behind him.

"Professor Westflight!" it called.

The Professor stopped dead in his tracks and turned to see who was calling him. Poppey and Grayson looked to see a fair-skinned girl a bit further down the oasis path. She wore a chocolate-brown top and was adorned with a large amount of black jewelry and golden bullets. What really made her stand out, though, were her sunglasses and her beret.

"Who the hell is this chick?" Grayson whispered.

"I'm pretty sure we saw her fighting on TV during the Vytal Festival," Poppey remembered, "I guess she transferred here from Beacon."

"Ah, Ms. Adel," Westflight said, "What can I do for you this fine morning?"

"You know, I'm totally cool with you just calling me Coco. You know, you are looking sharp today. Have you lost a little weight?" she replied.

"Do you have something you wish to discuss…Ms. Adel?" the Professor sighed.

"Uhh, yeah. I have a question about the project you assigned in your class," Coco answered.

"The paper on a historical weapon of your choice. Yes, what about it?" asked Westflight.

"Well, I am having, like, the _worst_ time finding any information about the weapon topic—"

"I see," he interrupted, "So, you have come to ask me for advice on where to look up said weapon."

"Yes, exactly," Coco affirmed. Westflight took a moment to ponder her request. In the bushes, the observing pair continued to sit and listen to the conversation. The tension in the air was so thick one could cut it with a knife. Poppey could feel Grayson's annoyed anticipation. She couldn't blame him. They were supposed to be following and gathering information on a suspect, not learning about weapons history. She wasn't sure if either she or Grayson could take much more.

"Very well, then. What was the weapon that you chose to research?"

"The boomerang," returned Coco.

The Professor's face immediately lit up with joy upon hearing the response. "Finally! It's about time! My dear, you have no idea how long I have been waiting for a paper concerning the boomerang, and now my wait is over!"

"So…you'll help me, then?" asked Coco.

"Yes, of course! I mean, I do need to get some work done in my office, but, come, walk with me. I believe I know of a few sources that could be of use to you," Westflight said excitedly. The two then began strolling side-by-side down the walkway.

A huge wave of relief washed over Poppey and Grayson. They could finally start moving again. Silently through the desert ferns, they continued to follow their suspect, at least after shaking out a few cramps from sitting too long.

"You know, there is one major historical example of the boomerang that occurred during the Great War. Interestingly enough, it actually was not wholly recorded in today's textbooks. The tale was mainly told through word-of-mouth, and, as a result, has been all but lost in time. The story comes from right here in Vacuo in a small remote village several hundred miles from the Kingdom. During those days, the Kingdom of Vacuo had deigned to fight alongside Vale against Mantle and Mistral. On occasion, soldiers from all four Kingdoms would approach this small village in order to recruit new fighters, but they all were either killed or driven off by a single warrior wielding a deadly pair of boomerangs."

"Fascinating," replied Coco.

As they kept on down the path, Grayson and Poppey came across a problem. While Coco and Westflight continued walking, they passed through a small trail intersection that split into four separate roads. Grayson stopped abruptly.

"What are you doing?" Poppey whispered to him. "We're falling behind."

"We've reached the end of the tree-line. Any further and we'll be spotted," he answered.

"So, what do we do? We can't sit here forever. We're going to lose him."

"I have a plan," Grayson said, "It's risky, but it just might work. We wait here a little longer until Westflight is further down the road. Then, on my signal, we bolt for the ferns across the way."

Poppey sighed nervously, "Okay. If you say so."

So, they watched the Professor and Coco, waiting to make their run for the ferns. With each passing second, their conversation grew much softer the further away they got. They waited…and waited…and waited. Until…

"Now," Grayson signaled Poppey.

They quickly dashed from their hiding spot into the middle of the intersection. However, instead of reaching the ferns as they planned, they were stopped short as they collided with a shadowed figure and were knocked flat on their backs. When the two sat up rubbing their heads, they got a better look of the figure. They looked to see a dark-skinned young man with burnt orange hair. He was wearing an orange vest with black trousers and had scars all up and down his arms. As he also rubbed his head, he looked up and stared at them with pure white eyes. The expression on his face appeared to be a mix of annoyance and confusion.

"Hey, watch where you're going, kid!" shouted Grayson.

"Sorry about him," said Poppey, "What he really meant was…wait, were you in the bushes, too?"

"He won't answer you," a familiar voice said. All three of them looked to see Coco standing over them. "He's not really the 'talking' type. Although, I am, and I should probably ask you two the same thing: what were you guys doing in the bushes?" she asked as she lowered her sunglasses, exposing her dark brown eyes.

After a brief pause, Poppey responded. "Would you believe us if we said we were bird-watching?" asked Poppey.

The teen in orange looked up to Coco then back to the pair and shook his head unconvinced.

"Look, we don't have to tell you anything. We're professional huntsmen. For all you know, we could have just been exercising our stealth skills."

"You're right," replied Coco, "But, by the looks of it, it looked like you were tailing me and Professor Westflight." Poppey and Grayson looked at each other confused. She knew they were following her?

"How did you know?" inquired Grayson.

"Because my partner here was doing the exact same thing, and has been for the past week," she said as she helped the three up off the ground. "I'm Coco Adel. He's Fox Alistair. We're part of Team CFVY."

"Grayson Dunce," the faunus returned. "This is Poppey Leifgreen. We're from Team GRPE."

"GRPE, huh? I recognize that name from somewhere. You guys are from Beacon, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we graduated from there," answered Poppey.

"That's probably where I heard of you guys."

"Yep…that's probably it…" Grayson concernedly affirmed.

Fox turned to Coco and began to move his hands in several different ways. It appeared he was using some sort of sign language to talk with her, most likely what Coco meant when she said he wasn't the talking type. Coco nodded, apparently understanding what he was signing.

"He's right," Grayson interjected, "Enough chit-chat. What do you guys know about Westflight?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on! You understand him?" Coco interrogated.

Grayson bent down and showed her his hearing aids. "You see these? I was as deaf as they came before I got these. How else were people supposed to talk to me?"

"Okay, point taken," Coco backed off. "But like you said to us earlier, we don't have to tell you anything."

Poppey spoke up, "Look, we're all on the same side here. We all have information. We all have the same goal. So, what's the harm in working together? If we team up, it could be easier for all of us to find out what Westflight is up to."

Coco took a moment to mull over Poppey's suggestion. After a pause, Fox began to sign again.

"Looks like your partner is up for it," said Grayson. He didn't have to see Coco's eyes behind her glasses to know she was rolling them. After further pondering, Coco sighed and accepted.

"Alright, you got a deal." As the four all shook hands in agreement, Poppey had one lingering thought in her mind: " _I wonder how Ringo and Ebony are doing?_ "

* * *

 **A/N: So, here's the deal. There is so much content that I created for this story segment that, if I put it all in one chapter, the damn thing would be about 10,000 words or more. So (like with Ebony's watch) for the sake of my own sanity, I will be splitting this up into not two, but three chapters. I'm sorry if that pisses anybody off, but my brain is a train going 100mph and someone cut the brakes. Besides, I just like creating content and characters. Deal with it.**

 **Props to anyone who got the blatantly obvious Scooby Doo reference.**

 **Double props to anyone who found the two more obscure Red Vs. Blue quotes.**


	8. Stress Testing

At times, Titian wondered how he got where he was in life. Here he was, living in a dank subway tunnel, fighting for his life and the lives of others at all hours; and he still felt as though his actions meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. No matter how many Grimm he killed, no matter how long he fought, things never got better. The whole thought of his situation was, in all honesty, rather depressing. He would often block out the monotonous life he led by escaping into his paintings. The way colors transformed from shapes to scenes of beauty and tranquility on the canvas, it was therapeutic.

This process, however, did not block out the incessant yammering and yelling of the other huntsmen around him. While he would have loved for all of them to shut their collective traps, Titian refrained from adding to the din of chatter with an outburst. He knew that everyone was stressed and needed an outlet and that they were all waiting eagerly for the upcoming sparring matches. Glynda had anticipated that tensions would be high between the warriors, and, so as not to cause another Grimm attack, organized fights as a way for people to blow off steam. She would referee them personally, to ensure that no one killed themselves, but aside from standard competition rules, anything was fair game. The matches were a good way for people to settle disagreements amicably and were useful for keeping one's skills sharp.

Titian was currently seated on a bench next to Azure in the front row of the makeshift stands that overlooked the arena. The two were waiting with bated breath for the first fight to begin. It was a duos match, featuring Moose and Gron versus Sky Lark and Dove Bronzewing of Team CRDL. The former Beacon students had challenged Team MGTA to a fight as a means to show off their strength. If they could take on one of the toughest huntsmen teams in the entire City of Vale, it would put them on top of their own imaginary leaderboard. Despite the fact that his wing had not healed yet, Gron agreed to the idea, claiming, "It could be fun. And, besides, I haven't had the chance to fight anything in weeks, I'm getting a little soft." Moose, after much thought, also accepted the rookies' challenge, but only to help relieve the stress of the rest of MGTA.

Titian glanced up from his work to look at Azure. She was the picture of giddiness, cheering on her husband and teammate in the ring in between mouthfuls of the instant noodle she was eating. Her gray and black tail was swaying left and right in a show of excitement. However, her jubilations were halted when, out of nowhere, Cardin Winchester dropped into the seat on her other side.

Beacon's renowned "bigot bully" had a smug grin plastered across his face, which was grimy and unshaven. If it weren't for the regal appearance of his armor, he could have been mistaken for a bum. Nearby stood Russel Thrush, Cardin's "partner in crime." His expression looked a little less mocking, and a little more like he was waiting for something to happen. At first, Cardin's gaze was on the ring but after a few moments, it shifted over to Titian and his faunus comrade.

"It's almost an insult for you guys to send a crippled animal to fight for you," he taunted. "But, hey, if you want us to break his other wing, who am I to deny your request?"

All of them could tell that struck a very sensitive nerve in Azure. She was proud of her faunus heritage and, generally, was quite vocal about her distaste for the White Fang and the image that they promoted. Although, she was equally so in her hatred for racists, more specifically, the vulgarism of "animal." To this, she would respond with violence, most of the time. However, much to everyone's surprise, she simply closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, signifying that she was attempting to let the insult slide. Titian considered stepping in to help her. She must have heard his thoughts, because she glanced towards him, shaking her head ever so slightly, indicating that she wanted to handle this on her own. Any sane individual would have taken the hint and counted their lucky stars that Azure didn't try to castrate them with her fork, but Cardin, either not smart enough to pick up on this fact, or not satisfied with the current level of racist he was being, decided to graduate from petty name-calling to full-on harassment.

He scooted closer to her, giving off the vibe that he was about to do something drastic. Then, in a single motion, he sealed his own fate by knocking her meal out of her hands. The amount of anger that Titian saw in Azure's eyes was frightening. Coupled with his previous insults, he was astounded that she hadn't broken his arm.

Winchester then proceeded to verbally abuse her further. "Whoops! Oh, sorry about that. But, I mean, none of it's really going to waste though, right?" he jeered. "What's the saying? 'It hits the ground, it goes to the hound?' So…No harm, no foul."

Azure clenched her fists, her knuckles turning bone-white, but kept on facing forward, never giving him the satisfaction of a rise.

Clearly annoyed by this, he continued, "Oh, C'mon, pup! You're not gonna do anything? No 'woof' or even a growl?" His heckling went on for several agonizing minutes until Glynda stepped into the center of the arena. At last, he realized that he wasn't getting through to Azure and left. "Fine, be that way…freak," he muttered as he stormed off with Russel in tow to find some other place to watch the fight.

Titian placed his hand on Azure's shoulder and asked, "Why did you just let him go on like that? Every other time someone's ever talked that way to you or any other faunus, you punched their teeth in."

"He was looking for a fight. That, or he wanted to rile me up before our match, to make me sloppy. Rest assured, he's gonna pay for that later, but right now, there's a sanctioned fight about to happen," she told him, reminding him of the last thing that any of them had heard Professor Ozpin say during the Vytal Festival. One last time, under her breath, she repeated, "He's gonna pay for that later."

* * *

A hush fell on the crowd of huntsmen and civilians when Glynda Goodwitch utilized her telekinesis to focus all of the spotlights on herself. "As I'm sure you are all aware, this is not a no-holds-barred fight. There are rules to these battles. As such, I feel as though it is necessary for me to relay them to you once more," A few exaggerated groans were heard from within the audience. "Firstly, all participants' Arua levels will be monitored, and when they reach a certain minimum, the fighter will be removed from the arena. Any attempts to re-enter a fight or attack a disqualified combatant will be seen as intent to cause harm to your fellow huntsmen and will be dealt with…severely. Second, the use of explosive Dust compounds or explosive weaponry is forbidden, I do not wish to spend the rest of my day digging all of you out from under a caved-in ceiling. Finally," she continued. "No one, under any circumstances, is to enter the arena while a fight is underway. If you do not agree with any of these restrictions, you are free to leave at any time. Now, if there are no questions, let the games begin."

With that, Glynda strode regally out of the ring, leaving Professor Port to officially begin the match. His boisterous, thundering voice echoed through the room as he introduced the combatants. "Well, it seems like we have an interesting match-up this time around. Here we have two of Beacon Academy's modern students pitted against the older, more experienced Beacon graduates," He paused to give the audience an opportunity to cheer. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Sky Lark and Dove Bronzewing of Team CRDL, versus Moose Bully and Gron Lakare of Team MGTA!"

The crowd roared with excitement and anticipation, eager to see if Beacon's students could hold their own against its graduates. Titian and Azure, however, were simply interested to find out how long Sky and Dove would last. "Fifty lien says they're out within two minutes," Azure bet. "What do ya think?"

Titian pondered for a moment, then answered, "Oh, what the hell. Alright, you're on."

"Combatants, ready your weapons," Port boomed. "Three. Two. One. Begin!"

* * *

Within an instant, Moose and Dove had dashed into the center of the ring. Their blades singing the shrill melody of steel on steel as they clashed. Sparks flew, and the swordsmen glared into each other's eyes. In a duel, one's mental skill was strained just as much as the physical. The first person to lose control of his mind and emotions was the first to go down.

"How long do you think you can keep up with me?" Moose hissed, trying to distract the young man. "You're dealing with the best swordsman to come out of Beacon."

It was obviously a bluff. Moose had nowhere near the level of skill he would need to match someone like Qrow Brawen. He was simply attempting to psyche his opponent out. However, it proved unsuccessful when a fist came out of nowhere and socked him in the jaw. The blow caused Moose to momentarily lose his stance. As a result, he was just barely able to block the follow-up slash with his pistol.

"I don't have to keep up," Dove spat back. "I just have to make sure you can't hit back."

Behind them, Sky had been intercepted by Gron while trying to flank them. However, he was a quick thinker and utilized his momentum to swing his halberd in a deadly sideways sweep. The buzzard managed to redirect the polearm with his own, gracefully sliding it around him. A maneuver which would have been extremely difficult to pull off with any other sort of weapon, because of the halberd's hook-like nature. But Gron's _Pestilence_ was perfectly suited for a battle such as this.

Sky did not let up, however. Swinging the butt of his weapon rapidly, he was able to land a hit on the beak of Gron's mask, disorienting him. It was a solid hit, and Gron couldn't help but admire the young fighter's versatility in combat.

He spun around, using his green cloak to hide from his opponent's gaze and loaded a cartridge of Dust into his pitchfork's chamber. Once he was facing Sky again, Gron unleashed a cloud of Nature's Wrath, spicy fire flavored.

"Argh!" Sky cried as the infernal fog engulfed him, slowly eating away at his aura.

Anyone on the receiving end of this form of attack could attest to the fact that it was miserable. Most weapons caused severe pain that was over rather quickly. _Pestilence_ did as well; however, over a longer period of time. It lived up to its name, giving one the feeling of being gradually killed by a plague.

Gron took a few steps back and prepared for the coming onslaught. Just in time, too. Sky shot out of the glowing red mist with renewed anger with his weapon pointed straight at Gron's head. The attack was sloppy and easily deflected. In a single, fluid motion, Gron knocked the halberd out away and jabbed the rounded tip of his pitchfork into Sky's gut. Although, the parry did little more than annoy him further, as his torso was clad in a firm, steel breastplate.

Unfazed, Sky managed to swing his left leg up and around in a kick aimed at Gron's right temple. Yet again, his offense was simply blocked. Gron wondered when he would learn that the direct approach would get him nowhere. All of a sudden, he felt a fierce, horrific pain in his left wing, the broken one. He had indeed figured that Gron outclassed him in a straight-up fight, and resorted to playing dirty. While he was distracted with the kick, Sky had slipped his weapon in a stabbing motion under Gron's arm, right into his injured, bandaged wing.

The audience reeled and gasped at the brutal strike. An animalistic scream of pure pain emanated from the mechanical bird mask. Gron crumpled to the ground, writhing in agony. And Sky took his chance to beat him mercilessly, stomping and kicking with no signs of remorse. Gron's aura-levels on the large holographic screen depleted more and more with every hit. It was awful, yet somehow it was still within the rules of the arena.

Finally, after several harrowing moments, Sky let up. The faunus was a battered, broken heap on the ground. If it weren't for the display, one would assume him dead. Satisfied with his handiwork, the student turned his attention to Moose and Dove, who were still grappling against one another. Neither of them had taken notice of the beatdown, as they were too engrossed in their duel.

Sky used this fact to his advantage by hooking Moose's hand with his halberd. He was taken by surprise when his saber was wrenched from his grip, clanging to the floor. Not having enough time to retrieve it, Moose ducked down and quickly unsheathed his hunting knife from its home in his boot. As he did, Dove took the chance to grab the fallen blade, dual-wielding it with his own.

Moose tried to survey his opponents, to find any kind of weakness he could exploit. There was no feasible way he could disarm them both without causing serious, irreparable damage. If he wasn't concerned about the boys' safety, there were tendons he could slice, bones he could break, or other fun kinds of harm he could inflict. But this wasn't a no holds barred fight. And these two weren't his enemies.

He attempted to get a shot off on Sky only to nearly catch a sword to the gut. It simply wasn't going to be able to fight them both head on. Taking a defensive stance, he steadily began walking back towards Gron's limp body. He intermittently shifted his gaze between Dove and Sky. Any time one would attack he was able to deflect it and dodge to oncoming follow-up strike from the other.

The battle had become a tense stalemate, but it was far from over. Moose simply needed a chance to come up with the perfect strategy. Eventually, he felt his leg brush against Gron, who was no longer merely a pile of broken faunus and feathers. The lanky man had managed to claw his way into a kneeling position. His breath was heavy and labored and dark green energy flickered across his body. His aura was fading. If he took one more hit he would be out of the match completely.

"What're you lookin' at?" he rasped. "I'm still in this."

Moose couldn't help but smile at his partner's resolve. Despite his sickly appearance, Gron could take a hit like a champ.

"Sorry buddy," Moose replied, narrowly avoiding a blade to the face. "I don't think you can help much here. We're kinda cornered. Well...actually, we're _'rounded.'_ " He gestured to the walls of the circular arena.

Gron sighed. A sound that was quite strange indeed coming out of his mask. "You're an idiot," he said. With grunts and groans aplenty, the faunus somehow managed to reach a posture that resembled standing. Albeit very uneasy standing. He wobbled back and forth as he struggled to maintain balance by leaning on _Pestilence_. "I said I'm still with you, and I meant it. Now get ready."

With a flick of his wrist, a dense cloud of white smoke spewed out of the pitchfork and enveloped the pair. To the naked eye, vision in the smog was nearly impossible. But to Gron, with his enhanced faunus senses and his breathing mask's new thermal vision, it was clear as crystal. He locked his gaze on Sky, who he had deemed the more cunning of the two imbeciles, and focused.

With what little aura he still possessed, Gron activated his semblance. _Quarantine_ was the name Team MGTA had given it. Simply by focusing on an individual, Gron could inflict overwhelming headaches, nausea, fatigue, and vertigo. It was almost as if they had been infected with some sort of plague. The downside was that Gron experienced the symptoms as well as his victim. Although, over years of training, he had become somewhat accustomed to them and could bear them a bit more.

As soon as the aura-induced ailments hit him, Sky fell to his knees, clutching his head as though it were going to explode. He screamed and writhed in agony, but Gron didn't let up. He was punishing the kid for his foul play. But that didn't mean he didn't respect his creativity.

As he watched the boy suffer under the effects of his semblance, Gron too felt the sickness flow over him and nearly fell once again. Reaching over, he tapped Moose on the shoulder, signaling him to attack.

The mustachioed woodsman leaped forward with dizzying speed and ferocity. Taking advantage of Dove shifting his attention to Sky, Moose was able to slip past his defenses rather easily. In a single, fluid yet brutal motion, he slammed the butt of his pistol into Dove's temple and knocked Sky unconscious with a well-placed kick to the jaw. Within seconds the remaining huntsman-in-training was disarmed, both swords clattering to the ground. His blue eyes widened as his legs were swept out from beneath him. And when he hit the ground, he felt the cold bite of a razor-sharp knife against his throat.

"Give up," Moose commanded. "It's over."

Despite it all, his confidence was still relatively intact, "Go to hell."

The audience was shocked by the drastic turn-around that the match had taken. Sky and Dove went from having victory within their grasp to defeat in the span on thirty seconds.

"Do you _really_ want to test me?" Because from where I'm sitting, you're outnumbered," Moose was no longer bluffing. Dove had most certainly lost the fight. "And not to mention the fact that Gron here can do the same thing to you as he did to your buddy. Trust me, if that happens, you'll stand even less of a chance at beating us. Not that it wouldn't be entertaining."

The threat of Gron's semblance was enough to shake the kid's resolve a bit. His defiant expression shifted to one of concern.

"Now, it's your move. How do you want this to go down?" Moose put a little more pressure on his neck with the knife.

The action combined with his fear of _Quarantine_ was the straw that broke the camel's back. Dove clenched his eyes shut and muttered, "Alright...I give up."

Moose shook his head. "Again. So _they_ can hear you," he said, gesturing to the silent crowd.

He threw his hands up in a display of surrender. "I give up!"

The deafening silence continued as people tried to process everything that had transpired. Gron had gone from being dead to the world to saving Moose from _Frick_ and _Frack_. And Moose had forced the foolhardy and headstrong Dove Bronzewing to concede with a few whispered threats. When it finally sank in, some members of the audience began clapping, others cheered. Within seconds, the entire crowd had erupted into applause.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our winners!" Port shouted into the intercom. "In an astounding turnaround, Moose Bully and Gron Lakare of Team MGTA are victorious!"

Titian looked over to Azure, a grin plastered on his face. "I don't know about you, but my stopwatch counts that as seven minutes and thirty-four seconds," he bragged, stretching out a hand. "Pay up, Newfond. Fifty lien."

The wolf-tailed woman grumbled as she reluctantly dropped a handful of cards in Titian's palm. "Hope you choke on it...Smug bastard."

As the adrenaline began to wear off, Gron slowly fell to the ground but was caught by Moose at the last moment.

"You did good, buddy," he said. "That was some pretty quick thinking there."

"Yeah," Gron wheezed. "...Hope you got a kick out of it, cause I will _not_ be doing that again. Also, quick side note, I think my lungs are trying to commit suicide."

As they exited the arena, the pair were nearly tackled to the ground by an overly-enthusiastic Azure. She laughed with delight as she crushed them with a ferocious bear(well..wolf)-hug.

"I knew you could do it!" she squealed, which was, admittedly, a bit odd for her.

Moose chuckled as she released them. "Yeah, it looked a little touch-'n-go there for a bit. But Gron brought it back."

"Oh you bet your life I did," Gron said. "Don't think I'm not too humble to admit that I did all the work there."

"I think that kid may have hit you a little harder than we thought, Lakare. Because you're talking crazy."

"I refer you to my previous statement. You're an idiot," Gron's breathing was slowing down and he was beginning to stand up without the aid of _Pestilence_. It wasn't a secret that faunus' auras regenerated faster than humans', but Gron's natural healing rate was astounding thanks to his regular use of herbal medicines.

"Alright, alright, as much as I would love to debate Moose's mental capacity," Titian said as he joined the group. "Azure and I have to get going. Our match is up next, and you know how anal Glynda is about punctuality."

Azure's attitude immediately shifted to a more serious one. "Right, I've got a few things to _drive_ _home_ with Cardin."

Moose nodded. "Okay, we'll go find some seats. Give 'em hell, honey." He and Azure shared a quick kiss before they all parted ways.

With a quick round of 'goodbye's and 'good luck's, Team MGTA's artistic swordsman and brutal warrioress walked into the ring for their own sparring bout. Their opponents were to be Cardin Winchester and Russel Thrush. This match was certain to be entertaining. And, more importantly, Azure would get some well-earned payback.


	9. See Some Evil, Hear Some Evil

**A/N: Yeah baby! We are back! The hiatus has been terminated! School is over, our creative juices are finally flowing, and our muse has struck. We are ready to get a move on with continuing this story and hopefully finishing it out in the foreseeable future. So without any more further ado, let's jump right in and see what Teams GRPE and CFVY are up to.**

* * *

The school hallway was completely empty. A total ghost town. No one to be seen. No voices to be heard. That was until Ebony poked her translucent head through one of the walls. She looked up and down the corridor with her stark-white eyes. Still empty. Satisfied, she phased the rest of her ethereal self through the wall and deactivated her semblance. Her eyes were now back to their usual light brown and her body was once again solid. She took several tired breaths. It had been a while since she used her powers for an extended period of time. She was a little out of practice.

She continued surveying her surroundings as she pulled out her scroll. She was about to press Ringo's name when she felt a tickle on her nose. Then another. Then another. She swatted at the air, thinking it was just a bug. She looked around to find it when…

"Peekaboo," Ringo suddenly appeared out of thin air with his own semblance. Ebony screamed and practically jumped a foot in the air. She then quickly backed up and slammed herself into the wall of lockers behind her. Breathing more heavily than before and placing her hand over her heart, she scowled at the curly-headed wanker as he laughed. Of all people, how did Ringo happen to get the power of invisibility? To be fair, it was extremely useful in times when stealth is needed, but, due to his constantly comical nature, he mainly just used his gift for pranks and, of course, scares.

"I told you not to bloody do that!" she punched him in the arm.

"Oh, lighten up, Rich Girl," Ringo returned as he wiped tears from his eyes and rubbed his arm, "It was just a bit of fun."

"Well, that was _not_ funny. And how many times have I told you _not_ to call me that?"

Ringo put his hands up, "Alright, sorry," he said half-sincerely.

It was no secret among Team GRPE that Ebony was the youngest and only daughter of Orville Rouge, the third-generation CEO of Rouge Dust Collection and Distribution - RDCD for short, a lesser-known Dust conglomerate and a stiff competitor to the Schnee Dust Company. However, none of them knew why she hated it when anybody brought the subject up. It wasn't like her father was a self-absorbed ass-hat like Jacques Schnee. In fact, she spoke highly of her father. There had to be something more to the story, but her teammates never had the courage to ask.

"Seriously, Ebony, you need to learn to laugh every now and again," Ringo told Ebony as they started walking down the hall.

"Well, that's not going to happen if you continue with your shenanigans." Ringo walked in front of her and stopped her.

"You mark my words, Rouge. I will make you laugh sooner or later." As he turned around to keep walking, he slammed into a massive torso and flew backward at Ebony. In the nick of time, she used her semblance, causing Ringo to phase right through her and fall flat on his back in a daze. Ebony let out a genuine laugh as her body became solid again. She stepped over Ringo and lean over to talk to him.

"Look at that," she mocked, "You actually made me laugh. Mission accomplished."

"Very funny," Ringo groaned.

"It is, isn't it," Ebony smiled. Ringo sat up to address the wall of a man that he just ran into. There was only one person he could think of who had a chest like that.

"Hey, Grayson, what gives? I thought we were supposed to meet you at the…" Ringo looked up to see not Grayson, but a young man about the same height and build. He wore a pale green robe with a heavy 5-layer sode resting on his shoulder. He may have looked similar to Grayson, but his skin was tanner, his short hair was black, and he had a humungous bronze greatsword strapped to his back. The green mountain looked down on him with the faintest expression of confusion.

"Okay, you're definitely not Grayson," said Ringo.

"No, I am not," the young man shook his head. Behind him, a meek female voice piped up.

"Yatsuhashi, what's going on? Why'd you stop?" A young faunus girl leaned her head into to view and peeked around the green-clad giant. She had long brown hair and big brown eyes. Her most defining feature came in the form of tall rabbit ears protruding from the top of her head.

"Oh, hello," she said with a wave. She shyly came out from behind Yatsuhashi, walked over to Ringo, and helped him up. "Sorry about my friend here. Despite his size, not many people hear him coming."

"Yeah, I noticed," Ringo grunted.

"I do apologize, but, in all fairness, you weren't watching where you were going," Yatsuhashi spoke up. Ebony began giggling under her breath.

Ringo sighed, "Yeah, alright. You got me there. And sorry for the name-calling. I thought you were our teammate. You look a lot like him. My name's Ringo Hobbs. This is Ebony Rouge. We're half of Team GRPE."

"It's very nice to meet you both. I'm Velvet. Velvet Scarlatina. And this is my teammate Yatsuhashi Daichi. We're part of Team CFVY from Beacon."

"I thought I recognized you two," Ebony chimed in, "You fought in the Vytal Festival." She pointed to Yatsuhashi, "And you got your arse handed to you by that boy with the boots."

"Ebony!" Ringo scolded her.

"No, no it's okay," Yatsuhashi assured him, "She's not wrong." A hint of red could be seen in his cheeks. After a brief moment of awkward silence, Velvet attempted to break the ice.

"So, what brings a team of professional huntsmen to Shade Academy?"

"We're just passing through," Ebony answered, "We're making our way to Vale, but decided to try and do a few jobs in the area while we're in the neighborhood."

"In fact, we're going to meet up with the rest of our team to head out on a mission," Ringo added. As he talked, Yatsuhashi's scroll went off. He took it out and opened it. What he saw clearly perplexed him.

"Um, is this your team?" he asked showing Ringo and Ebony his scroll. On the screen was a selfie depicting Grayson and Poppey with two other people they could only guess were Velvet and Yatsuhashi's teammates. Accompanying the image was a message:

" _Some people we'd like you to meet."_

* * *

Ebony, Ringo, Velvet, and Yatsuhashi walked side by side as they entered the courtyard. Since school was already in session, the entire place was deserted, with the exception of the other group coming in on the other side. Poppey and Grayson were accompanied by the two people from the selfie. The two quartets kept walking until they stood directly in front of each other at the center of the square. Everyone awkwardly swapped sides to their respective teams until Team CFVY stood on one side and Team GRPE stood on the other. After several moments of staring each other down, Fox "broke" the silence by signing to Velvet and Yatsuhashi. The two nod in response.

"Hey, instead of gossiping over us, how about you tell us what you know about Professor Westflight?" Grayson suggested somewhat rudely. Fox immediately stopped signing and stared angrily at Grayson. In response, he made one last sign that was rather offensive.

"Um, excuse you," Coco retorted, "How about you tell us what _you_ know?"

"Yeah, that might be a problem," Ringo commented.

"Oh yeah? How?"

"We...don't really know much," Poppey answered meekly.

"How much do you actually know about Westflight?" Yatsuhashi inquired.

"Well..." Ebony started.

"You don't know anything, do you?" Coco deduced.

"Yeah, we know nothing," Ringo finished dryly.

"Then what the hell are you even doing here?"

"Let's call it a hunch," Ebony responded.

"A hunch? Really? You started stalking a highly-respected teacher on a _hunch_?!" Coco questioned.

"Would you rather us say that we were bored?" Grayson raised an eyebrow.

"Honesty, it'd be a bit more believable." Coco echoed Grayson by raising her own eyebrow.

"Believable or not," Ringo chimed in, "we're all here now. So why don't we just work together?" Team CFVY looked to each other, almost as if having a silent conversation.

"If Westflight really is up to something, then there's no way he can stand up to all eight of us, but only if you agree to let us help," Poppey reasoned. She was met with an extended pause. After an awkward couple of seconds, Velvet steps forward.

"Makes sense to me," she said. She then looked to Yatsuhashi, who nodded in agreement. Fox crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged, indicating that he too was in agreement. They all turned and stared at Coco. She stood there uncomfortably and then let out a loud exasperated groan.

"Fine," she complied, "Let's do it." She extended her hand to Grayson, who took it in his own and shook it.

* * *

Ebony and Grayson followed closely behind Coco and Fox as they led them down the hallway. The two teams decided to split into two groups of four and look in certain locations where Professor Westflight tended to frequent. They were going to check Westflight's office while the other group, which consisted of Ringo, Poppey, Velvet, and Yatsuhashi, went to look in his classroom. The four walked in silence as they continued through the corridor. Ebony sped up and began walking next to Coco.

"I just wanted to say," she began, "I _love_ your scarf. You have to tell me where you got it."

"I'll tell you if you tell me where you got your hat," Coco laughed.

"Oh, this old thing?" Ebony took her top hat off of her head to give Coco a better look. It was black with a dark red ribbon wrapped around the base. On top of the ribbon was a pair of thick brass welding goggles.

"It was one my father's old ones, with a little bit of extra flare," Ebony explained.

"Not that many people rock can top hats anymore, but you are absolutely killing it."

"Oh, you're so sweet. Now, about that scarf."

"Actually, this entire ensemble I got from a cute little in downtown Vale," Coco told her.

"Really where? Can you give me an address?" Ebony asked.

"I umm...Can't. It was destroyed during the Breach. It's pretty much a pile of rubble and rebar now."

"Oh. Well...damn," Ebony frowned. Behind them, Grayson and Fox walked together. Both of them stared at the girls as they partook in their small talk. After listening for a good while, the two looked to each other. Grayson smirked and rolled his eyes. Fox also smirked and shook his head. If he had pupils, he would have been rolling them, too.

"His office is just up ahead," Coco pointed. The stopped at a random, one among many others in the building. On the door was a sign that read "Prof. M. Westflight". This was the right place.

"I'll check to see if he's inside," Ebony said.

"Umm, knocking would tell him that we're on to him. Wouldn't that be the exact opposite of what we're trying to do here?" Coco asked.

"Just watch," Grayson assured her. Ebony closed her eyes and concentrated. She opened them again, revealing their stark white color. Her body became ghostly once again. Coco and Fox watched in awe as Ebony phased her head through Westflight's door. After a few seconds, she came back out and turned off her semblance.

"He's not in," she said.

"Awesome," Coco smiled. Suddenly, her grin disappeared. Around the corner, they could hear the sound of footsteps and whistling. All four of them started to panic.

"We gotta hide," whispered Grayson.

"Through here," Coco pointed to a classroom across the hall. Fox approached it and turned the handle. He frowned and signed back to them.

"Locked," Grayson and Coco said at once. Coco stared angrily at Grayson.

"Ebony," he said frantically.

"I'm trying," she returned, "Don't rush me." The footsteps grew closer. The whistling grew louder.

"Come on!" Coco urged.

In the nick of time, Ebony ghosted and practically sprinted through the door. The door swung open, letting the other three inside. Ebony then slowly shut the door, which closed with a slight _click_. They watched through the door window as Professor Westflight approached his office door rummaging through his pocket. He pulls out a set of keys and uses one to unlock his door. Upon stepping inside, he turned around and looked up and down the hallway, as if making sure no one was around. Satisfied, he shut the door.

"We gotta call the others," said Grayson, "This is our chance."

* * *

Ringo, Poppey, Velvet, and Yatsuhashi raced around the corner, almost slamming into their friends.

"We got here as fast as we could," Poppey huffed.

"Is he still in there?" Velvet asked.

"Yep, hasn't left the place since we called you," replied Coco.

"If we want to really find out what he's up to, now's the time to do it," said Grayson.

"Then what are we standing around here for?" questioned Ringo, "Let's get in there and nail his sorry butt." Everyone looked at Ringo confusedly. After a moment, realizing the dubious implications of his words, his face turned red. "...Th-that came out wrong."

Ebony rolled her eyes and groaned. She lifted up her hat and pulled a bobby pin out of her hair. She then knelt in front of the doorknob and proceeded to stick the pin in the knob's keyhole.

"Aren't you going to use your semblance?" asked Coco.

"I could," she answered, "but an aura can only take so much use. I'm sure all of you can understand." They all nodded in agreement. There was a sudden click and Ebony stood up. "Besides, where's the fun in that?"

She turned the knob and pushed the door open with a proud smirk on her face. The office itself was actually a fairly adequate size. Since Professor Westflight was Headmistress Cornwell's second in command, his office was a good bit larger than that of the average teacher. Inside the room was a desk and several bookshelves, but, to their shock, no Westflight.

"How the-?!" Coco gasped. She ran into the office and looked around.

"I thought you said he never left," Ringo said.

"We did," Grayson answered.

"Well, it doesn't look like he's in there to me," Poppey added.

"Everybody spread out," Coco commanded, "There's got to have left some sort of clue to where he went." As everyone else entered the room, Grayson strolled up alongside Ebony. "Since when did you know how to pick locks?" he whispered to her.

"Since none of your business, darling," she chuckled as she playfully patted his cheek. And with that, she hurried into the office, leaving a befuddled Grayson behind her. He shook his head and followed her in. Or at least tried to due to his hulking frame. Although the office was rather large, it still felt extremely cramped. With eight people in the room at the same time, it wasn't all that surprising. Every member of Teams GRPE and CFVY milled about, tearing the room up in search of clues.

"Everybody stop!" Yatsuhashi said. They all complied. No one said a word. "I feel a breeze."

"Sorry," Ringo smirked. Poppey punched his arm.

"No, it's coming from over here, behind this bookshelf."

"He's right," Velvet added motioning to her adorable rabbit ears, "I can hear it. There must be a passage of some kind."

"So...what? There's a certain book in one of these shelves that we have to pull to open a secret door? Give me a break," laughed Ringo. As he spoke, he reached for a random book and pulled it forward. Suddenly, the bookshelf began to quake. The entire structure slid to its side, revealing some sort of heavy-duty metal door and a keypad.

"Ugh, that is _so_ cliche," Ebony groaned.

"Tell me about it," Coco replied. Fox approached the door's keypad and began punching in numbers. After several failed attempts, he looked back at his friends and signed to them.

"Anybody here got any skills in hacking?" Coco asked. They all looked among themselves and shook their heads.

"No, but I think I know how to get in," Grayson responded, "Poppey, you're up." Poppey nodded and placed her left hand in _Blutoyl Spin_. She stretched her gloved hand up to the door and concentrated. The metal was enveloped in sea-green energy.

"What's she doing? Velvet asked.

"She's manipulating the door's strength and integrity," answered Grayson.

"What does that mean?" Yatsuhashi questioned.

Ringo returned, "Basically, with her semblance, she can raise or lower the strength quality of anyone or anything that she touches, either making it stronger or weaker. It comes in real handy when facing off against huge, powerful Grimm... or, you know, cracking open heavy steel doors."

The power shone brightly upon the huntsmen as Poppey used her semblance, then it slowly faded away. Once the door was no longer glowing, Poppey clenched her fist and the metal crushed and crumpled like a wad of paper in her hand. She then reeled back and tore the structure off of its hinges and set it down gently against the wall. All of Team CFVY collectively dropped their jaws. Ringo came up and gave Poppey a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Way to go, Girly," he smiled. Poppey blushed.

"Whoa..." Coco remarked as she peered into the passageway behind the door. The corridor was almost completely shrouded in darkness, with the exception of small dimly-lit torches sporadically placed throughout the hall.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Grayson said.

"You and me both Gray," Ringo agreed, "I'm getting my sword out. I don't know about you guys." He reached behind his head and pulled _Venom Tail_ from its sheath. Everyone else followed suit and equipped their weapons. One by one, each huntsman cautiously stepped into the dark hallway. Aside from the echoing of their footsteps, the place was silent as the grave. No one dared to speak. As they continued onward, they began to see a light coming from the corridor's end. This light source shone more brightly than the scattered torches that the huntsmen passed as they walked. They slowly drew closer to the light and were greeted with not only a dead end but also a...

"Grimm!" Poppey shouted. She raised her cestus glove and began charging a knuckle laser.

"Wait," said Grayson as he lowered Poppey's gauntlet, "We've never seen a Grimm like this before. We don't know what it does." All of their eyes were locked on the creature as it hovered in place. The top of the Grimm looked similar to that of a fortune teller's crystal ball with the base of it covered with the typical Grimm bone armor. Sprouting from under the top were a plethora of tentacles, some of which were tipped with sharp bone spear points.

With weapons at the ready, the two huntsmen teams waited for the creature to strike, yet it never did. Aside from gently bobbing up and down as it floated, the Grimm was absolutely motionless. Grayson looked to Coco, who nodded in unspoken agreement. The two guardedly approached the Grimm to take a closer look.

In contrast to when they entered the room, the creature did indeed react to them approaching it. Whereas the globe had previously been as black and clouded as the abyss, it now began to glow; a faint, crimson hue piercing through the darkness.

"What the-?" Coco whispered.

"Ah, Monk," an eerie, feminine voice reverberated from some unplaceable source, presumably the Grimm. "I have been awaiting your-" Clearly the person speaking had not been expecting to see them. "Well... this is certainly unexpected." The two leaders watched as the top of the creature began to reveal an image; an image of a woman who they could have only described as an unholy union between human and beast. The Grimm woman stared as all eight huntsmen gathered around to look and see what their leaders were seeing. They could not believe their eyes.

"Umm...hello?" Grayson started.

The woman answered back after a brief pause, "Hello."

"Who are you?" he asked her.

"My name is not important," the Grimm lady responded, "Let's just say I am no one to be trifled with if you know what's good for you." Coco scowled.

"Alright, lady," she interrogated, "If you like puzzles so much, then riddle me this: it's obvious you're working with Westflight. What are you two planning?" The woman, unmoved by Coco's aggression, replied calmly.

"That is none of your concern. Although, I do believe that is," she pointed behind them.

"Huh?" Grayson and Coco said simultaneously. Suddenly, the huntsmen all felt a shooting pain up their spines. The room was filled with white lightning and each of them was enveloped in it. They screamed in agony as each of their nerves were overloaded with raw electricity. Then the electrocution ceased, and everything went black.

* * *

Ebony groggily opened her eyes. Her head was pounding like a drum. Her body felt heavy and numb. It hurt to move. She winced as she looked around the room. Her teammates were just coming to like she did. All four of them were lying scattered on the ground, groaning like they had the world's worst hangover.

"Is everyone okay?" Grayson grumbled.

"I guess so," she replied.

"Can you ask me again later when my insides aren't fluid..." Poppey asked. "...again?"

"I feel like I've been run over by a train, but other than that I'm peachy," Ringo answered.

"How about you guys, Coco?" No answer. "Coco?"

All four members of Team GRPE sat upright. Team CFVY was nowhere to be seen. The strange Grimm was gone as well. On the floor in its place was a scroll. Ebony reached over, picked it up, and opened it.

"Who's is that?" inquired Poppey.

"By the looks of the contents, it isn't any of ours."

"What's on it?" asked Ringo.

"The only thing I can find is a voice recording," Ebony remarked.

"Well, let's hear it," said Grayson. Ebony opened the recording and pressed play.

 _"I can imagine the headlines now: Team GRPE, the famously disgraced huntsman team, come to visit Shade Academy, lash out, kill a group of young, promising students, and escape in a stolen bullhead. An utter tragedy, to be certain. However, if Team GRPE were to attack me, the deputy headmaster, and I were to kill them in self-defense, then it is a tragedy with a silver lining and the families of these children will know that justice was served. In either case, I win. Now I'm going to give you a choice. Should you decide to take the moral high ground and save Team CFVY, then you will find us in the ballroom. If not, there will be a bullhead waiting in the main courtyard in ten minutes. And I have ordered the pilot to take you to wherever you need to go. I suggest you choose wisely. Do not disappoint me by making the wrong decision."_


	10. Bankruptcy! I declare BANKRUPTCY!

**Big A/N: Greetings all! We regret to inform you, that, upon further rereadings of our previous chapters, we have decided to abandon this fic like an unwanted, red-headed, royal stepchild and completely rewrite it. Over time, our respective writing styles have changed and we are honestly ashamed of the abhorrent way the story has been written so far.**

 **We apologize to the few of you who have been following SoF since the beginning - you know who you are. Rest assured, Teams GRPE and MGTA are not dead, they're just off to the gym to shape up a little. When they do return, it will be with a vengeance.**

 _ ***Serious Face Intensifies***_ **This time, it's personal.**

 **Thanks for reading this far. We shall reconvene with you at a later... juncture... at a juncture, yeah.**


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